But then he ruins it by sighing in surrender. “Number one.”
Actually, this ruins nothing. This is incredible. Best day ever.
I skip off to the bathroom and return with the urinal bottle. I hold it aloft for him to see how clever I am, how I have thought of everything I’m going to need to take care of him.
His eyes widen. His dark, thick eyebrows shoot up.
“Hell no!”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t want to pee the bed, do you?”
“Unchain me and let me go to the goddamn bathroom!”
I give him my best pout. “But then you’d overpower me, and while I’d love that, you’d be boring and only use it to escape.”
“Giovanni!” he snarls.
“Ginni,” I correct sternly.
His nostrils flare as he inhales sharply. “Ginni. Let me go.”
“Not until you’ve come to your senses and accept that we are meant to be together.”
Carlo swears and smashes his hands against the headboard.
“Now, shall I help you pee?”
His eyes narrow. “I’ll hold it.”
“For two weeks? Don’t be silly.”
He mutters something at me and turns away.
I sigh. “Carlo, my love. I’m going to be doing all kinds of things to your dick. Seeing it and putting it into a bottle is nothing more than a polite introduction.”
His eyes snap back to mine. Furious and bright with something else. Something that gives me goosebumps again. His expression looks almost pained. My poor sweetheart. He really is fighting this so hard. My silly man.
I step forward and take hold of the gray cover. Carlo’s entire body tenses. His lips press into a tight line. I can tell he doesn’t want to say no because when I ignore him, he will look foolish.
I slide the cover down. Slowly. Taking my time. Revealing my glorious prize one careful inch at a time.
His body is perfection. The definition of manhood. Broad, firm, defined. A man in his prime. Nothing like the boys my age. Carlo is a real man. Thirty-four. A dad bod. If dad’s worked out and had a scattering of scars from a life of crime.
The cover glides down and down. My heart beats faster and faster.
And then… it’s there. Carlo’s cock.
I glimpsed it when I stripped him, but I didn’t pause to ogle. I’m not a creep. I have standards.
But he is awake now, so I can feast my eyes to my little heart’s content.
I drop the urinal bottle onto the bed, and clasp my hands together in prayer because I am looking at something holy.
It is everything I knew it would be. Thick. Long. Two delicious visible veins running along it. Rich dusky skin tone. A base of neatly manscaped coal-dark pubes.
It’s even slightly hard. Very slightly. As in not completely soft.
It’s a very good start. I’ll take it as a victory.
