“Like ‘harder, harder,’ and ‘faster, faster,’” Florian says, and his eyes go all dewy.
My trousers tighten.
“Yes,” I say faintly.
“Well. Let’s go to the pharmacy now.” Florian kisses my cheek. “The doctor said I should remember soon. I don’t want you to have to wait long until you can enter me again.”
“Ieqwhfkhar.”
Florian blinks.
“Sorry.” I cough again. “Maybe we should wait longer.”
Florian looks puzzled, then his gaze drops to my trousers. His eyes round. Then he grins. “Oh.”
“Maybe five minutes,” I say.
He smiles happily. “Okay.”
And then, heaven help me, he ducks down to my you-know-what. He traces my bulge with a finger. The touch is so light, barely discernible, but I harden and harden.
“I promise to get better soon,” Florian promises.
Florian is speaking to my cock. My super hard cock.
“That is not helpful.” I grit my teeth.
Florian moves up quickly, because, you know, he is a world-class athlete, and he chuckles. “Sorry, Schatz.”
I blink.
“I didn’t used to call youthat?” He frowns.
My breath quickens. He probably called me some very German thing just now.
“You, uh, wanted to call me something Spanish. Because of the whole Puerto Rico thing.”
His eyes round. “I called you Mi Amor.”
“How—?” I press my lips together. Florian doesn’t speak Spanish, but ‘mi amor’ isn’t that uncommon a phrase.
Florian looks delighted. “That’s what I called you? Really?”
I nod helplessly.
“Maybe it was a trigger!” Florian sweeps me into his arms and twirls me around the kitchen.
My breath vanishes. His dark blue eyes look at me with such affection that I can do nothing else but agree. His eyes dip to my lips, and I know he is thinking about kissing me.
He doesn’t because he is a gentleman.
Instead, he steadies me. I am breathless. All I want is to close the distance between us.
In the next moment, Florian is slipping my coat over my shoulders. He zippers it up.
“Let’s get that enema kit, mi amor.”
“O-okay.”
