He rolled up his sleeves, displaying his strong forearms. “Hand me the soap.”
I did as he asked, then stood mesmerized under the water as he pumped a few squirts onto his palm and lathered his hands. “Face the wall.”
He set the bottle of soap on the edge of the tub and redirected the water toward the tiles. His soapy hands then landed on my shoulders, and he began to massage the weary muscles, spreading suds up and down my back, pausing to work out the knots he found along the way.
“Damn,” I hissed. “Didn’t know I was getting a spa day out of this.”
“Stop talking,” he commanded, pumping out more soap before turning me around and sliding his hands around my throat, down my chest, and across my ribs and belly. Finally, he used his thumbs to work over my cum gutters, all the while ignoring the fact that my shaft was at full attention.
I watched him work me over, wondering how he was managing to keep his shirt dry. And why did that make this whole scenario hotter?
“Widen your stance.”
I complied as he soaped up his hands again before running them down my legs, then over my feet and between my toes.
“Wider,” he said, tapping on one inner thigh.
I sucked in a breath and went as wide as I could without losing my balance on the wet tiles. He knifed a hot, soapy hand into the crease of my ass, and I nearly fell over. He gripped one of my shoulders, pinning me in place as he continued working my ass, rubbing his fingers over my tight bud before grabbing andmassaging my nuts. He then squirted more liquid soap directly into my crack.
Stroking and pushing, he dipped a finger in, just a little. Maybe only to the first knuckle, but I couldn’t help the moan that left my lips.
“Shh, shh.” He sounded like a man trying to settle a horse. “Be a good boy for me and take it.”
My jaw dropped open. Even after this morning, I had no clue what he was capable of.
He pushed the finger in deeper, then added another, rough and so fucking perfect. I was dripping with need and nearly sobbed when he finally touched my cock, soaping it, careful to pull back the foreskin and clean under the sensitive ridge. Grabbing the handheld showerhead, he sprayed me clean, top to bottom, spending extra time to make sure that my dick and hole were well rinsed. I hissed, rising up on my toes from the overwhelming sensations.
Once he was satisfied that I’d been thoroughly cleansed, he shut off the water and grabbed a towel. I reached for it, but he shook his head, instead insisting that I stand, dripping wet, on the bath mat as he carefully, slowly dried every inch of skin.
“Your bed. Hands and knees. Face the headboard.”
Still in shock, I scrambled to my room and assumed the position. He examined me like I was cattle, opening my mouth with probing fingers, sniffing my armpits and groin. Climbing onto the mattress behind me, he once again spread my cheeks, and a low sound emanated from him.
“Perfection,” he rumbled.
“I’m overdue for a wax,” I said, self-conscious as I checked over my shoulder for his reaction.
“Bequietand face forward.” His sharp tone sent shivers down my spine, yet I still paused before obeying him. “I’ll have my lady come here to take care of you.”
Of course he had an aesthetician on call.Of course he did.Before I could think of a retort, however, the wet heat of his tongue against my hole stole my vocabulary. Seriously, I was going to have to start from scratch. Relearn the entire language.
I shook my head as he licked his way up my crease, and yet… still no. Not a single word registered in my brain. Again and again, he buried his face between my cheeks, attacking me from taint to hole and beyond. I nearly choked on my spit when his tongue pushed through the tight ring of muscle.
He pulled back and kissed the softened bud. “Are you consistent with condoms?” he asked, his breath hot against the nerve-rich skin.
I made an aborted sound.
“Hendrix?”
“Uh, yeah?” What was the question again? Oh, right. “Yes, I’m consistent. I never go without a condom. And I’m on PrEP.”
“Same here.” He went quiet, teasing my entrance with his thumb.
Fuck. I wanted desperately to turn my head but remembered at the last second that he’d directed me to look forward.
“I need to see you dripping. How would you feel about me breeding you?” He took a breath, as if to steady himself. “You can say no.”
Was there no limit to the number of ways in which this man could surprise me? “Uh, you’re literally the only person I’d trust to do that to me. Fuckin’ breed me, man.”
