I shake my head, leaning close enough I can smell the sunlight and water dried in his hair. “Who are you to me?”
“Kitten,” he murmurs, body going slack in front of me. I hum my approval, placing a single kiss on his shoulder.
“Who's cum is inside you right now, kitten?” I catch his eyes in the mirror and watch his blush deepen, stretching from the hollow of his throat to his hairline.
“Yours…”
“Mine,” I agree, voice husky with more need than I've ever felt in my life. Kit's eyes snap down to my hand, grabbing the lube off the counter. His fingers dig into the cool surface, and I watch his breathing quicken, chest rising and falling as I coat my fingers. I use my other hand to run down his smooth back, silently urging him to arch for me.
He does. So fucking beautifully.
He moans low and aching when my wet fingers trace around his rim, I didn't need the lube. “Your hole is stretched by my cock. Full of my cum. And you're worried I'm uncomfortable with this?” I move my fingers slow and steady, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. But my kitten's eyes are glassy pools of autumn fire. I press my hard length into his hip, locking him between me and the counter. “Do I look like a man who doesn't want this? Want you?” His hair moves with his head shake, eyes closing when I rub against his prostate. “Eyes, kitten.”
I take him apart one thrust at a time. But he's pulling me apart at the fucking seams with every moan, every push back of his hips. The way he watches me with a parted mouth and needy eyes.
“Do you see it yet, baby? Don't you see what you do to me? You are exactly what I want.”
I stop my movements when he groans and goes up on tippy toes, back arched deep. His eyes are wild when the orgasm stays just out of his grasp.
“Boe, please,” he whispers.
“Please, what?” The bathroom lights are bright, the mirror right there in front of us. There isn't a shadow for him to hide in. It's him. Me. And exactly what this is staring back at us.
“I want you,” he finally says, his normally smooth voice deep with his desire.
“Want? I don't give a shit about your want, I want your need. I want you to need me the way I need you.”
His laugh is tinged with disbelief, “I've always needed you.”
I bury my face in his neck, nipping at his earlobe while I lube my cock. “Then watch me give it to you, kitten.”
We both groan when I slide back inside his slick heat. His body takes me to the root in a vise so tight I have to lean my forehead against his shoulder.
“Eyes, Bowen.”
My laugh is guttural and ends with a groan pulled from deep, where all I've wanted for years has been buried.
“Say it,” I say. Beg.
“Yours,” he breathes, pressing back against me. “I'm yours.”
It takes Herculean efforts not to back him into the tiles. Truly.
“Why are you so tall? Tilt more.” Kit's fingers scrub gently at my scalp under the shower spray. I don't tilt more; I like watching his tongue poke out in frustration. “Boe, tilt back, so I can rinse your hair. And stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” The water is getting colder by the second. That's why I washed him first. The little demon likes his water hot enough to scald. I also took sick pleasure in washing the cum off of his ass. Maybe I'm the demon?
“Like you want to eat me.” He rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are the pretty pink I love to see.
He can look disgruntled all he wants—doesn't hide the sigh he lets out when I pull his wet body flush with mine. I take mercy on him, tilting my head back so he can rinse the rest of the shampoo from my hair. Then I release him long enough to pass a washcloth. He holds it out for a squirt of body wash, then stands there. Burning red and looking at my body with eyes that flick back and forth and all around like he doesn't know where to look first.
My deep chuckle makes him jolt, and he grabs my hand, shooting me a glance while he starts scrubbing up my arm.
“You really are always wet and naked, huh?” He watches his hands work. Up my arm, over my chest. His breathing picks up when he makes it to my stomach. My stomach clenches when he sweeps lower and his eyelashes flutter. If he touches my cock, we're never making it out of here clean.
I step aside just enough for the spray of cold water to hit him, and he hisses, jumping back. “Oh my God, Yeti!” He tosses me the washcloth and I grin, watching him as I quickly soap up the rest of my body and rinse. At least I know a cold shower does absolutely nothing against my libido and Kit fucking Meyer.
By the time I'm drying his hair with his favorite striped towel, he's once again like warm putty in my hands, eyes soft when I lean in to kiss the freckles across his nose.
