I’m left staring at the fall of his raven-dark hair, shot through with the wedding braid, and other delicate twists woven with my Christmas present. My gaze lowers and drinks in the sight of his perfect ass and exquisite long legs.
He glides forward and gracefully walks down the steps. Sinking into the water with the sort of effortless poise that makes everything he does look like choreographed poetry.
I hurry to remove my own clothes, fumbling with buttons and zippers like a teenager on his first date. My legs get caught in my trousers and I nearly fall face-first onto the marble steps, but somehow I manage to make it into the warm water without completely embarrassing myself.
The bath is heavenly, warm and deep enough to nearly reach my pecs while I’m standing. But all my attention is focused on Dyfri as he moves through the water toward me, droplets catching the golden light like jewels on his pale skin.
“Come here,” he says softly as he guides me to a seat under the water.
He gestures for me to sit and turn around.
I comply. He scoops up water with a copper bowl and carefully tips warm water over me. And then his hands are in my hair, working some sort of exotic soap through the strands with gentle, thorough movements. The intimacy of it hits me like a physical blow. No one has ever washed my hair before, never touched me with such tender care.
“I wish your hair was long enough for me to give you a braid,” Dyfri murmurs, his fingers massaging my scalp in ways that make me want to melt.
“I’ll grow it!” I blurt out immediately, then flush at my eagerness.
Dyfri’s laugh is soft and delighted. “I’d like that very much. Something to mark you as mine.”
The possessive note in his voice sends heat shooting straight through me. He moves around to face me, those dark eyes warm with affection and something much hotter. His hands trail down to my chest, fingers threading through the hair there with obvious fascination.
“Does this fur require special treatment?” he asks with a seriousness that’s deeply endearing.
I laugh, the sound echoing off the tiled walls.
His dark eyes flash at me in warning. Displeased that I’m laughing at him.
“You’re the only special treatment I require,” I croon.
He rolls his eyes but he allows me to pull him close until he is straddling my lap. I like this new position. His naked ass on my thighs feels divine.
Dyfri stares at me. His arms rest on my shoulders. Something heated flickers in his expression. Then he slides forward. Pressing himself closer to me. And causing our cocks to touch.
I grunt as the sensation sparks through me. This is the most marvellous idea he has ever had, and he has many marvellous ideas.
I keep my eyes on his as I wrap my hand around both of our cocks. Dyfri hisses in pleasure. His lips parting. Colour blooming on his pale cheeks.
He is always gorgeous, but in this moment, like this, his beauty is going to destroy me. His image is burning into my retinas, and if I survive, it’s going to be the only thing I see for the rest of my life. Permanently imprinted onto my vision. I don’t want it to be any other way.
His cock is perfect against mine. Smaller, paler, more silken. Just as hard and hot.
I move my hand, stroking both of us. He moves his hips, a graceful movement that rubs us together. Flesh against flesh. Fire against flame. So hot I don’t understand why the water hasn’t turned to steam.
One of Dyfri’s hands leaves my shoulder to cover my hand that’s resting on his hip. He moves me and I obey. He slides my hand behind him and down until I get the idea. I continue the journey under my own steam, and run a finger around his hole.
He moans softly, a barely there exhale. And he rocks his hips faster.
Every part of me lights up. My soul is on fire and my thoughts have been whited out by blazing joy. Dyfri is in my arms and enjoying my touch.
Time fragments. Pleasure, heat and sensation overwhelm me, scattered with images of reality.
Dyfri passing me a bottle of oil, reassuring me that it will work under water. Me coating my fingers with it. Returning to the satin heat of his hole. Easing a fingerinside him. Then two. Increasing my grip on our cocks. Working us faster. Fragrant water sloshing around us.
“Give me your cock!” Dyfri says suddenly. His words and tone deeply imperious. Loud after an unknown time of only soft moans and lapping water.
It’s enough to startle my eyes open. And stern enough to make time behave itself again.
Dyfri blushes. “Sorry.”
