“George!” I protest, but he just tips another cup over my head.
“If you’d sit still and tilt your head back, you wouldn’t have soap in your mouth.”
That tone only makes my cock throb.
“I can’t help it.”
“It seems you can’t.” Another cup, two, and by the time he’s done, I’m sputtering and gasping for breath.
“Did you just try to waterboard me?”
I stand up, more water spilling over onto the floor.
“No, I prefer much more humane things. Like spankings and electro-stimulation.”
I groan as I remember that, the way everything hurt so badly. How I needed him, and he’d done what I asked. He took care of me in his own way. Just like he’s trying to take care of me now.
He grabs a towel and flings one onto the puddle near the tub before advancing toward me.
“Out,” he says, and I slip and slide my way onto the floor, his hands reaching out to hold me steady. I can’t help it when my mouth brushes against his chest. It’s a mistake, completely accidental, but he doesn’t chastise me for it. Instead, he just dries me off with deft precision before turning me around and grabbing a toothbrush.
He scrubs at my teeth as he stands directly behind me, my back to his front. I try my best not to swallow the toothpaste, but most of it ends up in my stomach anyway. It only makes Georgiy sigh again.
“As a doctor, I recommend not eating toothpaste.”
I pout as he wipes my mouth and begins brushing my hair. It’s a tangled mess, and not something I mess with often, but he manages to run the comb through it a few times, making me appear slightly sophisticated. That is, until he tells me to put my hands on the counter and not move. Then I moan like a whore. My ass arches back, begging for him to stick his dick inside. It’s bare, so he might as well, but he doesn’t. He just moves up behind me and grabs onto my chin, forcing my gaze up to his in the mirror.
“You watch me as I get you off.”
I groan again, his hand dragging down my chest to my cock that’s hard and waiting for him. He’s never touched my dick with his bare hand. It’s always been gloves or a toy.
But now…
Now, those long, slim fingers are wrapping around my dick, and I gasp at the sensation.
“Georgiy,” I groan, and he leans closer, whispering something in Russian I can’t understand. I don’t have the ability. I’ve taken some classes, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
His fist strokes from tip to base, and my fingers curl against the counter.
“I’m not going to last.”
“You will. You won’t come until I say so.”
“I can’t help it.”
“This time you can, Bane. My Ara.”
That makes my eyes widen just as he tightens his grip on me and strokes hard. Once. Twice. I can’t help but peer down at his hand, the one with the ring on it wrapped around my dick. I need a painting of this. One so I can remember. Or maybe like an actual replica. Although I have no intention of cutting off his hand or my cock.
So that will have to be tabled for later.
“You’re so needy. Listen to you whine,” he whispers into my ear, and I nod, letting him direct my gaze back to him in the mirror. His cheeks are slightly flushed on his pale face, his mouth parted slightly as he breathes. He doesn’t let up on my dick. My legs are straining, my balls throbbing, but he keeps going, not giving me permission to let go, to be free.
He just holds on tighter. So fucking tight that I’m writhing. My ass is surrounding his dick now, that hard length sliding up and down my crack. And the entire time I’m dragging his dick up and down my ass, his hand still stroking, he’s watching me.
“That’s it. Get me off. First me and then you. You can work harder. Work for it.”
I groan and move faster, his fist meeting each of my ruts.
