I stare at him, my fingers still in his ass, but he doesn’t ask me to pull out.
It’s almost like he wants to keep me there.
How did I get so lucky?
“Stay,” he mutters. But I can’t, can I? So I gently slip my fingers from him, and then I spread his ass cheeks, staring at his red-rimmed hole.
“You did good,” I say, pressing my thumb to it. His ass takes it easily. Already open and wet for me.
“You sore?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“Did you like it?”
“What do you think?” he asks, and my lips find the nape of his neck.
“I think you were made for it.”
He glances back at me, and my cheeks flush at the erotic sight of him, used and messy.
“Give me a sec, and I’ll get you off, k?” he murmurs.
“No need. Already did.”
He huffs, and a small laugh escapes him. “Fine, then give me twenty minutes, and we can do that again.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When Caleb finally emerges from the bed, I force him into the shower. He’s reluctant to go, telling me he’d rather just stay naked, but I will not let him this time.
He winks at me as I grab the sheets from my bed and stuff them in the washer with my dirty clothes and turn it on.
“You know you should probably buy more sheets. Several more, in fact. I plan to do that multiple times a day,” he says as I appear in the bathroom, completely naked.
Showing myself to someone like this still makes me squirm, but the way he looks at me, the way his cock always grows hard when he sees my broken body, makes me feel brave.
I reach into a drawer and pull out a packet of waterproof covers for his cast.
“Wrap your arm.”
“Yes, Dad,” he teases as I help him secure it over his wrist.
When he’s covered, I point. “In the shower, Caleb. And don’t get your stitches wet.”
He rolls his eyes, but obeys. And when he’s under the water, I step in right behind him, pulling his back to my chest, my hands splayedacross his stomach. I feel his muscles flex and bunch beneath me, and I can’t help but curl my fingers against him.
“Going to wash me, too? Make sure I’m all nice and clean?” he asks with a small laugh. I huff against his neck and grab the soap, lathering him up and washing him thoroughly.
“Do I get to wash you also?” he asks as he reaches around and pulls me further into him.
My cock is nuzzled right between his cheeks, the lube wetting my half-hard cock. I could slip inside him, could fuck him right here, but I don’t. I won’t. The first time we do that, it won’t be in the shower.
So instead, I focus on washing him.
“You’re taking this very seriously,” he says, and I meet his gaze with a stern one of my own.
“There’s nothing wrong with being clean.”
“Nothing at all, especially when you’re the one cleaning me,” he replies as I reach between his legs and run my soapy hands over his cock.
