"Get up here."
He climbed out of the tub, water streaming off his body. His cock was flushed dark, straining, and I wanted it in my mouth.
I slid off the edge and dropped to my knees on the bathmat.
"Dixie, you don't have to—"
I wrapped my hand around his shaft and licked the tip.
"Fuck." His head fell back, a groan tearing from his throat.
I took him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, one hand working what wouldn't fit. He was hot and hard and tasted like clean skin and want. His hand tangled in my wet hair — not pushing, just holding on like he needed something to anchor him.
"Your mouth." His voice was wrecked. "God, baby, your mouth feels incredible."
I worked him with enthusiasm, loving the sounds he made — the groans, the curses, the way his thighs trembled when I took him deep. When I cupped his balls and swallowed him down, he swore and pulled me off.
"I'm going to come if you keep doing that." He hauled me to my feet. "And I want to be inside you when I do."
He walked me backward toward the bed. Stopped.
"Wait." His jaw was tight, clearly fighting for control. "I don't have—are you—"
"I'm on the pill." I met his eyes. "And I'm clean. Got tested six months ago. Haven't been with anyone since."
Something flickered in his expression. Relief. Heat. Something deeper.
"I'm clean too," he said. "Tested regularly. Haven't been with anyone in... longer than I want to admit."
"Then stop talking."
I pulled him down onto the bed with me.
He settled between my thighs, his cock pressing against my entrance, and the feel of him there — bare, nothing between us — made us both pause.
"You sure?" His voice was rough, strained.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down.
He slid inside in one long thrust. We both groaned. He was big — stretching me, filling me completely — and the sensation of him bare inside me was almost too much.
"You feel incredible," he gritted out, holding still to let me adjust. "So tight. So wet. Fuck, Dixie."
"Move," I demanded. "Please move."
He pulled back and drove deep. Set a rhythm that had me arching off the mattress, my nails raking down his back. His mouth found mine, swallowing my moans as he fucked me with long, deliberate strokes.
"Harder," I gasped against his lips.
He shifted my leg higher, changing the angle, and pounded into me. Every thrust hit that spot inside me, pleasure coiling tight and hot in my belly. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, punctuated by my desperate sounds and his rough groans.
"Touch yourself." His voice was raw. "I want to feel you come on my cock."
I slid my hand between us, fingers finding my clit. The added sensation was overwhelming — his cock stretching me, filling me, his mouth on my neck, my own fingers working where I needed them. I was racing toward release, my body tightening around him.
"That's it," he said, feeling me clench. "Come for me, Dixie. Let me feel it."
I came with a cry, my body gripping him in waves. He fucked me through it, his rhythm faltering as I pulsed around him, then pulled out.
