“You know that, don’t you?” I whispered. “That your cock’s perfect?”
He pulsed in my hand, and I grinned.
“You have a praise thing, don’t you?”
His lashes fluttered. “A praise thing?”
“You like being complimented. Every time we’re in bed, you like it when I call you pretty. When I say that you’re good.”
He squirmed, and I let go of him.
“Would you rather not talk about this?” I asked. Despite all the sex we had, he still sometimes got blushy and flustered when we talked like this.
He shook his head. “No. I’m not uncomfortable or anything. I guess I’m just a little shy.”
“That’s okay,” I murmured, running a hand through his hair. “You’re cute when you’re shy.”
“Really?”
I snuggled closer and let my lips brush his ear. “Very,” I whispered.
Leo shivered, then gave me a rueful grin. “Maybe I do have a praise thing.”
I smiled back at him and returned to combing my fingers through his hair. “Tell me all the things you like.”
“Tell you?”
“Well, how will I know unless you tell me? I only figured out the praise thing from sheer luck. What kind of things do you want me to call you?”
He was quiet for a few seconds. “What do you want me to call you?”
“I don’t mind,” I said, doing my best attempt to shrug while lying down. “I don’t have any particular names in mind, but I like it when you tell me how good it is. Or when you just say my name.”
Leo was quiet for a moment. “I’m not picky. I like everything you say to me.”
“Like?” I prompted.
“When you call me pretty and gorgeous and hot and handsome. When you compliment my eyes and mouth and muscles and…” he swallowed.
“And your perfect cock and gorgeous ass?”
He nodded, pink blossoming across his cheeks, but I wasn’t sure whether it was embarrassment or desire. “When you sayI taste good,” he murmured. “When you say my…my asshole looks…”
I held my breath. I wanted to hear it so much — to hear Leo repeat the filthy words I’d said to him.
“Looks…tiny and pink,” he finished.
I exhaled, and it must’ve been encouraging because Leo continued, “And when you say my cock looks mouthwatering. When you tell me how much you love sucking it.”
“I do,” I murmured. “And I love watching you cum.”
Despite his entire face being red now, he gave me a small, pleased smile. “I like watching you finish, too,” he admitted, then glanced down at himself. “Oh, Jesus, I’m leaking all over myself.”
I had no choice but to shuffle down, grip his thighs, and slide him into my mouth. I tasted him against my tongue and his strong hands held onto my shoulder. I sucked and kissed and licked, and then, when his breathing turned to panting, I pulled off him so he wouldn’t finish just yet.
He didn’t speak for a long moment, his chest moving up and down as he caught his breath. Then he tugged me back into his arms.
“I like it when you take charge,” he murmured, and it was as if all his shyness had melted away. “I like it when you make all the decisions. When I can just lie there and enjoy it.”
