I love you.
My hand wraps around his cock, firm and steady, and the moment I do, everything changes. I feel it in the way his body tightens, in the sharp intake of breath he can’t quite hide.
The water around us turns warm and distant, as if the world is falling away in layers. I watch as he tilts his head back while I stroke him, and I see it happen, slowly, unmistakably: the way control slips through his fingers and into mine.
Something in my chest snaps tight at the sight of it.
I adjust my grip and run my thumb over his crown, not rough or rushed, just certain. Intentional. Reading every shift in him like a language only I know. I worship him.
I tug his dick slowly again, and his breath breaks. His breathing is uneven now as I stroke him, twisting my wrist at the end. I feel his pre-cum leaking from him as it mingles with the water. His broken breathing rocks through me; there’s no space left for instinct or response anymore.
Only heat. Only reaction. Only us.
My lips follow, mapping his face, tracing his jaw, the shape of his dimple. I kiss and lick down his neck and around to his Adam’s apple, and a sound breaks from him: low, unguarded, landing in my chest. My grip on him tightens, milking him, and I feel him respond to me, his body giving away more than he intends.
I look up at him, and need coils through me, sharp and consuming as I take in this man I love. I want every sound. Every breath. Every loss of composure. I want all of it.
I drop down in front of him and run my tongue from his base to his tip, the heat between us immediate. His breath catches as I look up at him, and I see it in his eyes: desire, yes, but something steadier. Careful, almost.
His fingers slide gently into my hair, holding me there without pressure.
“Baby, you don’t have to,” he says softly.
I shake my head once, slow.
“I want to,” I whisper. “…fucking want to,” I say, before wrapping my lips around his cock and sinking down as far as I can go.
I commit and take him into my mouth, feeling his dick twitch as it sits on my tongue. I don’t look away. I keep him there, anchored by eye contact, and then I sink further, taking him deep down my throat, swallowing around him.
His grip tightens in my hair, and I watch as he breaks apart in sharp, uneven breaths.
“Holy fuck!” he chokes out, his head tipping back against the wall as control slips further out of him. A rough, shattered sound leaves him as his body reacts before he can rein it in.
“Oh, God,” his voice wrecked. “Baby… that feels so good.”
He thrusts slightly, testing me, and there’s a shift in pressure as he watches for a sign I’ll pull away.
I don’t.
And that’s all the invitation he needs to lose the last thread of restraint as he pushes his cock down my throat.
I watch him as his control breaks in slow motion: his breathing, posture, the way his grip tightens in my hair as he gives in completely.
Tears stream down my face and float away with the water as his cock moves deeper. I lay my hand over my throat and squeeze, feeling him there, hot and hard. He moans as I squeeze again, my head going light. He watches me through hoodedeyelids. He shakes his head as he feels my hand wrap around his cock while it is seated in my throat.
“Oh, my God. Baby Boy… too good.” He doesn’t say it properly anymore. He is unraveling, fracturing. He’s gone from steady to undone in front of me.
Because of me.
He’s letting go for me.
I moan around him, and he looks down at me.
“You need it, Baby Boy?” he murmurs, voice low and teasing, watching every reaction I give him. “Need my cock?”
I answer him on instinct, but he slows down, shaking his head slightly, keeping me right at the edge.
“Baby Boy,” he warns softly, “if you keep looking at me with my cock buried deep in your throat, I’m going to completely lose it.” His grip tightens in my hair for a moment, then he pulls his dick from my mouth and shifts away slightly while helping me stand.
