Trent and I engage with them, they’re funny and interesting, and while Trent still needs moments to recalibrate every once in a while, dinner goes smoothly and dancing ends with all of us promising to do it again next Thursday. By the time we get home, we’re both happy, sweaty, and ready for time alone together.
“I think that went well,” I say, leading my husband up to the master bathroom, because we are absolutely not getting into the sheets this sweaty. I changed them yesterday; we are not dirtying them today.
“It did. The Svens are going to be good neighbors and friends, I think,” he agrees, slipping by me to start the water.
I enjoy Trent’s form in every circumstance, including when he bends over like this. Whew. “I would like to touch you because I’m attracted to you and the sight of you turns me on. How do you feel about that?”
Trent looks over his shoulder at me with a delightfully wicked smile. “You want to touch your hubby?” he teases, shaking his ass before standing straight and turning toward me.
I swallow as he pulls his shirt over his head. “I—yes.”
Trent runs his hands from his neck to the button of his pants. “You want to touch my chest?”
I nod, watching him flex his pectorals. “Please.”
He opens his pants and lets them fall. “My stomach?” he asks, rubbing his adonis belt to hook a finger in the band of his underwear.
“I want to lick,” I respond, taking a shaky breath. I don’t touch him without his permission, and he still hasn’t told me if I can yet.
His voice deepens and his reply is rough as he slowly pushes the last scrap of cloth off his beautiful body. “It sounds like your mouth might be feeling a little needy.”
I watch him run his palm over his burgeoning erection, hoping for any opportunity he wants to give me. I keep my hands clenched behind my back, but watching him play with his own wood is where we started. I’ve developed a deep, abiding desire for watching him, and I’m completely transfixed by the motion of his hand and the evidence of his concupiscence. I’d give anything to get my hands on him right now.
Chapter 49
Trent
Magnus’needy whimper fills the bathroom over the sound of the shower running behind me. I love the look of lust on him. He flushes all the way down to his belly button, and for some reasons that’s such a turn on for me.
“Baby, take your clothes off,” I tell him, enjoying the way he’s staring at me. It’s taken me a long time to get here, and I’m committed to enjoying it. I want to take this as far as I can tonight, tomorrow night, the next night after, and every night after that until we say our final goodbyes to this life.
Magnus doesn’t move; he’s desperately trying to keep his hands in check, watching me stroke my cock, and his eyes on me get me past the chubby to a full hard on. Fuck, I’ve missed this.
“Magnus,” I repeat, hoarse and a little growly. “Take your clothes off.”
He whimpers again, and I decide to have mercy on my poor husband. “If you get your clothes off, I’ll let you suck my cock in the shower.”
That gets him moving. His eyes shoot to mine, like he might not believe me, but my face must be communicating clearly, because he jumps into action, stripping in a few seconds and taking a needy, excited step toward me.
I put my hand up, and for a heart-stopping moment, he looks like he’s about to cry, but I point to his feet. “Your socks, baby.”
He looks down at where he’s still wearing his socks and quickly jerks them off, tossing them into our bathroom hamper. “Now?”
I laugh at his incomprehensible question, opening the shower curtain for him. “Get in, baby. I’m going to wash you, and then you get to wash me. How’s that sound?”
“Yes,” he agrees eagerly, getting into the shower a little too quickly.
I steady him before he actually falls and follow him in, pushing him into the stream of water first. He’s not the only one who loves touching, and taking my time with him is blissful torture for both of us. I run my fingers through his damp locks, pushing his hair out of his eyes with a current of contentment running deep in my soul.
“I love you,” I tell him, framing his face as I come in for a heated kiss, taking his damp lips with mine, sliding my tongue into his mouth with purpose. I want him to feel how much I love him, how much I treasure him. He’s my person, and I’m his, and I want to connect with him as deeply as I can. I?—
“I want to make love tonight,” I whisper, kissing down his jaw, and biting him just below his ear.
He makes the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard, nodding frantically. “Yes. Absolutely. Anything you want,” he agrees whole-heartedly. “Love.”
I chuckle softly, reaching for the bodywash. He’s adorable when he’s turned on and flustered. I use my hands to soap him up, washing every inch of his skin from his neck to his toes, lingering around his cock and balls just to draw out the pleasure of watching him hold back. He wants more than a handy today, but he’s so tempted by my touch.
“Trent,” he whines, drawing out the complaint as I run my fingers through the cleft of his ass.
