***
He stares at his reflection in the mirror while I trail kisses up his shoulder, holding his ass pressed against my hips.
Fuck, I want to rip that towel from him and make him see stars while I go down on him.
Unfortunately, Aoi will kick my ass if I make a move for the second time today. Nothing could have prepared me for such a sex drive and high libido. I always knew Aoi could stir that slumbering desire that no one else could, but this is insane.
I can’t keep my hands off him for a second.
It’s not even about sex but more about the proximity and intimacy.
He shows me such a different image of him when we’re naked and interlaced, vulnerable and bare. He has the tendency to want control over the situation as I noticed from his constant questions about our whereabouts and plans. But when it’s just him and I with nothing else in the way, he lets go of some of that control and entrustsmewith it.
No one else.
Just me.
“What’s this?” he asks, holding up the blue flacon of Neroli Portofino. “I have the same one. You don’t use it though, do you? Your scent is muskier and spicier.”
I grin and bite his neck. “You’ve been smelling me? Naughty, Aoi.”
“I have not.” He spins around, leaning against the sink. “Seriously, why do you have this?”
“Because it smells like you,” I admit, eying him carefully.
Will he get mad? I sure hope not. What am I supposed to tell him? He can’t know the truth yet. It’s too soon.
He releases an exasperated breath and asks, “Mind if I use it then?”
I shake my head. “Go ahead.”
“Sometimes I wonder whether you’ve been stalking me.”
Shit.
“Why would I do that?”
He scans my face and puts the flacon back on the shelf. “Indeed, why would you?”
I gulp down the lump in my throat and sink to my knees, gliding my palms over his thighs under the towel and smile coyly. I press a trail of kisses further up his inner thigh and smirk when he gets hard.
“Would you get mad if I had?” I ask, nuzzling his thigh. “Hmm?”
The blue of his eyes darkens, and he wets his lips. “Not sure. Maybe initially I would have. Did you though?”
“Not really?”
“Not really?” he repeats with a confused frown. “What does that even mean-” I chomp down on his flesh and he yelps. “Andrew!”
“Looks like someone’s in the mood.”
He glares down at me and grabs my hair with more viciousness than expected. “Don’t play games with me. I have to go. Stop turning me on or finish what you started.”
I snicker and unwrap the towel from his hips. “Make sure to stroke my hair while I suck you off.”
“You’re so shameless,” he chuckles and slides his thumb over my bottom lip. “You win, Prince Charming.”
***
