My fingers trace the lines of his chest, his muscles taut under my touch, and his heart racing. His breath hitches as I trail my nails lower, grazing the waistband of his jeans and making him suck in a sharp breath.
We strip each other with deliberate slowness, and when we’re finally naked, I drink him in like he’s a work of art unveiled only for me.
He’s afucking Adonis—lean and sculpted, muscles carved in all the right places, defined but not overwhelming. Every line of him is perfect. He has the kind of body you’d see in a museum carved in marble.
And then there’s his cock.God, his cock.Hard, thick, and utterly beautiful.
How can a cock be so damn pretty?
It juts up between us, flushed and glistening with precum.
I wet my lips, my fingers itching to touch him, to explore every inch of this perfect, trembling masterpiece. So, I wrap my fingers around him, giving a slow, teasing stroke.
Nicholas’s head falls back against the mattress, his eyes squeezing shut. A breathless whimper escapes his lips, and his hips jerk slightly into my hand.
“God, you sound so damn hot with your cute noises,” I murmur, a grin spreading across my face.
He laughs, the sound breathy and edged with need. “I don’t know what you mean by cute noises,” he pants, opening one eye to glare at me. “I only heard rough, manly noises.”
I slide my hand down his shaft, then back up, my thumb sweeping over the slit on his head. His whole body shudders, a strangled moan breaking free.
“Whimper some more for me,” I tease, tightening my grip and making him gasp.
A soft, helpless noise slips out once more, his thighs tensing beneath me. The vulnerability in his voice, the way he gives in so easily…
Ugh. I love it.
“Look at all this precum,” I purr, dragging my thumb through the slickness at his tip. “So messy. Are you my messy boy, Nico?”
“Fuck, Sweetness,” he groans out, and the sound shoots straight to my core.
Did I just stumble over a kink?
I should pause. Should wonder why a man like Nico, privileged, polished, powerful, isn’t taking control. It doesn’t fit the image of him. But then again.
All of that image is fake.
I expected him to be commanding, maybe even a little cocky in bed. Not this—not undone and pleading, not melting beneath my touch.
And yet, as I watch him, his throat bobbing with a swallow, his body tense like he’s fighting himself, I don’t pull away. I don’t ask him why.
I just enjoy the fuck out of it.
I tilt my head, my fingers still wrapped around him, stroking him. “How do you want to do this?”
If he doesn’t want to fuck yet, I’d be totally down for taking him into my mouth until he spills down my throat before I grind against his thick, perfect thigh to make myself come.
His eyes flutter shut as the flush he’s sporting creeps down his neck. “I…” He swallows hard, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. “Can you… take control? Do whatever you want. I just…please.”
Please.
Fuck.I always thought I was drawn to dominance. But hearing him whimper, watching him surrender to me so completely, having himpleadwith those breathless, broken sounds, it’s like a match to gasoline.
The guy calls me Sweetness, yet look at him.
“Then let go, sweetheart.” My lips brush his ear. “Fall apart for me.”
I lean over him, and my eyes lock onto his as I let a slow string of saliva drip from my lips onto his cock. The drop lands with a slick sound, mixing with the precum already coating his dick. My fingers glide over the wetness, spreading it and making everything slippery.
