“No, probably not. But we’re happy, and that’s what counts.”
His hands slide to my ass, giving it a cheeky squeeze, and I smile as he winks at me. “I’m more than happy we finally scratched this itch, and now we’re on the right track.”
Taking a deep breath, I grin. “You’re so romantic. I’m overwhelmed with your hearts and flowers,” I tease, giggling.
“Well, I am the last of the romantics.” He chuckles.
“I hope you’re ready, ‘cause we are going to tell the others about us.”
“You think that’s a good idea?”
“You’d rather sneak around? Or have it out in the open so everyone knows and we can just be?”
“Personally, I’d rather stay in this little bubble we’ve created in the bathroom a while longer. But I’m sure Luke will burst it.” He grins wickedly. “But you can blow me…” he pauses, “… a new bubble later.”
Rolling my eyes, I break free, turning to look for my panties.
“Get dressed, and if you’re lucky, I’ll let you service me later as punishment for being a smart-ass.”
“Not sure that’s punishment. I’ll enjoy that as much as you will.”
“Then we’ll definitely go with that option.” I giggle, tapping him on the ass.
“Shouldn’t I be slapping your ass?”
“Only if it’s foreplay.”
His eyes widen, and he grins wickedly as I gather my clothes and start dressing, trying to ignore the fact that he’s getting hard again.
“You’d let me slap your ass during sex?”
I turn my head, arching a brow. “Mercs…” I smirk. “I’d let you do anything you wanted to me. I trust you.”
His hand moves to his cock, and he strokes it a couple of times like he needs the release. I smile and walk back over to him, biting my lower lip as I watch him.
“Fuck, Effa, you can’t say shit like that when we’re supposed to be getting dressed.”
I rise onto my toes and plant a soft kiss on his lips, then drop to my knees in front of him. His breath hitches as I lower myself, and his gaze sharpens, all dark heat and raw want. He keeps stroking himself, but slower now, more measured in his control. His dominance laces the air around us, thick and charged.
“You kneeling like that?” he murmurs, voice rough and low. “That’s a fucking sight I could get used to.”
I don’t respond, just stare up at him with wide eyes, letting him feel the full weight of my attention. I’m not touching him, not yet. I’m just here, watching. It’s a moment soaked in tension, erotic and electric.
His cock pulses in his grip, and a bead of precum glistens at the tip. I swallow hard, my thighs clenching at the sound of his quiet, ragged breath. Slowly, I place my hands on the sides of his thighs, gliding them upward in a sensual sweep that has him groaning.
He grabs a handful of my hair, his fingers tightening just enough to claim, not control. He doesn’t force me, doesn’t guide me, he just holds. Possessively. Like I already belong to him, and we both know it.
“Look at you, so fucking pretty on your knees for me…” He growls the word, “Mine.”
The way he says it, low, sure, like it’s a fact, sends a thrill right through me.
Mercs’ breaths turn short and shallow as his body starts to tense, that primal edge tightening in his shoulders. His strokes grow rougher, desperate, like he’s chasing the release he knows I’m about to give him. I feel his thighs twitch under my hands, and I know he’s right there on the brink.
I lean in slowly, deliberately, and smooth my lips over the tip of his cock.
He lets out a deep, guttural, raw. A throaty growl that rips from his chest like an untamed beast. It’s primal, possessive, and sexy as all hell.
And then he explodes into my mouth. His hot cum shoots straight to the back of my throat, thick and salty, warm and oddly inviting. I don’t hesitate, swallowing him down, savoring every second.
