I watch him walk away to set my stuff down—my eyes drawn to the gorgeous curve of his ass, the dip of his waist. His hair is swept back and tousled a bit, and there’s a slight shimmer to his skin, like he’s got on some lotion that makes him glow. Every inch of him is tantalizing.
Fuck, he’s perfect.
Kicking my shoes off and locking the door, I drain the glass like it’s a shot and cross the room to where he is. I slip my arm around his waist, pulling him back to me, then bow my headand brush my lips along the nape of his neck.
He shudders, exhaling shakily. “Did you have a good day?”
“I don’t remember anything before I got home,” I tell him. I couldn’t recall a single thing that happened before I got here if I had to. “But my day could not be better now,” I murmur, nipping at his earlobe, my hands wandering from his hips to slide behind the apron. “This is new…”
“Just trying to treat my man right after along, hardday at the office,” he giggles, pushing his ass back against my crotch and starting a slow grind.
I groan as I wrap my hand around his cock, giving him a few unhurried strokes before I can’t resist anymore and spin him around, kissing him like I’ve been starving for it. As soon as I taste him, I realize I have been.
He whimpers, a plea trapped between us, both unwilling to be the one who pulls away. When he finally relents, gasping for a breath, he pants, “Couldn’t wait for you to get home.”
“Yeah?” I play with the apron ties, trying to decide which part of him I want to devour first. “Did you miss me?”
“Always miss you,” he promises, hands on my thighs as he holds himself steady while he rocks against me. “Wanted your fingers instead of mine.”
“Sun…” I skim my fingers along the crack of his ass and gently push one inside. His body is pliant and already slick with lube. “You opened yourself up and didn’t let me watch? Or help?” I growl, giving his collarbone a bite. “You know I like to do that.”
“Did it for you,” he whines, working his hips, trying to get me to move, but then he stops. “No, not yet.” As he squirms away, my finger slips out and he drops to his knees, immediately going for my belt. He grabs at my pants and briefs as soon as the zipper is undone, yanking them down my thighs. “Fuck my mouth,” he demands, his tongue doing a quick swirl around the tip of my cock before he takes me in deep.
“Oh!Fuck.” My hands fly to his head, as much for my balance as to hold him where I want him. I’ve learned he likes this kind of submission on his terms—the sensation of being used for my pleasure. As good as he was the first time, he’s only gotten more impressive, understanding what I want and giving me exactly what I need. I swear he knows my body better than I do now—attuned to every twitch, tremble, and tell.
Sun moans around me, the vibrations amplifying the warmth of his mouth and the ache for release I can already feel building. He’s almosttoogood at this now. It’s hard to resist, and it’s hard to hold out as long as I want to when he’s become so skilled and shows no mercy. His fingers grip my thighs, encouraging a quicker, rougher rhythm. My instinct is always to be gentle and careful, but he always wantsmore.
My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling just tight enough as he swallows around me, the constriction of his throat making my knees weak. My next breath is ragged, a strangled groan ofI’mso close to coming, and he knows it.
His tongue slides along my length as he pulls back and replaces his mouth with his hand, smoothly stroking me while he reaches up with his other hand to whip off the string of pearls and toss them aside. “You know what to do.”
That simple phrase is all it takes when he gazes up at me, expectantly. My spine goes rigid, the orgasm racing through me as I come on his neck and across his chest, while he works me through it.
Sun looksfilthykneeling in front of me with my come dripping down his throat and over his collarbones, staining the top of the apron—his pleased, dreamy smile such a contrast to the debauchery.
The duality is so strong with him, on stage and in real life. He is so many things all at once, a very potent cocktail of temptation and affection created specifically for me. I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life drunk on him.
“Thanks for my new necklace.” He licks his lips and winks at me, sitting back on his crossed feet.
“You’re so welcome,” I say, tugging my pants and underwear back up and reaching for him, offering my hand for him to stand. I scoop him up bridal-style to carry him into the bedroom.
He had his turn to focus on me, and now I want mine. Laying him out on the bed, I untie the apron and use it to clean him up before throwing it on the floor, then stripping down and adding my clothes to the pile. I don’t care if any of them are unsalvageable later; I need to touch him immediately.
Moving to hover over him, I bow my head to lick into his mouth, and he eagerly opens up, winding his arms around me to hold me closer. I am happy to kiss him until we’re both breathless, but the desire to be everywhere, all over him, is too strong to deny. I nibble just below his ear, and he starts squirming just like I knew he would. “Be good for me.”
“I will. I promise. I’ll be so good,” he whispers, the lust and impatience evident in his voice, as he seems to force himself to be still. “Want to be good for you.”
“Are you going to let me do whatever I want?” I ask, sitting up to straddle his hips and trailing my fingertips over his chest, teasing his nipples. He knows I’d never try anything I haven’t asked about first, and my only goal is to make him out-of-his-mind crazy with pleasure.
“Yes.” His eyes meet mine, holding my gaze. “Please. Anything. Need you.”
“I’ll take care of you,” I assure him, my hands roaming over his abs to his arms and back—a slow, lazy path to touching every inch of him. Skimming his ribs, down his waist, I can feel him quivering, his skin warm beneath my palms. I reposition myself and push his thighs apart, settling between his legs.
He’s watching me intently, trying to anticipate what I’ll do next. The way he looks at me when we’re like this—together in the most intimate way, whether in the bedroom or wherever we are when we just can’t wait anymore—is dangerous. Somehow equal parts surrender and control, he’ll give in to me—give me everything—but not until he’s taken what he wants.
I’ve never been religious, but I can’t think of a better word thanworshipfor the time I spend on Sun’s body, devotion pressed into his skin with every kiss as I drag my lips from hipbone to hipbone, to the curve of his shoulder, and back over the faint ridges of his abs. I pause at the juncture of his thigh for a soft nip, then trail my tongue along his cock, so pink as it seems to pulse under my attention.
“Use your mouth,” he urges, trying to snap his legs shut around me and trap me right here.
