Page 102 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

But apparently, he’s not done. He turns me around to face him and presses my back against the wall. I yelp at the touch of the cold tile, but the sound dies on my lips as he lowers himself to his knees, his face hovering so close above my stiff cock that I can feel the puffs of air from his breath against my overheated skin.

He looks up at me, those dark eyes filled with heat.

“Yes?” he asks.

“Yes,” I whisper.

My head drops back against the tiles with a quiet thunk, and my mouth falls open as my cock is engulfed in hot, wet heat and powerful suction. My first ever blow job and it’s so good that I’m fighting not to come straight away, which shouldn’t be possible given how many times Sam made me come last night—or was it this morning? I don’t have a clue.

I look down and see him watching my face as my pale cock slides in and out of his mouth. It’s nearly all over when I see him take me right to the root, his nose pressed into the neatly trimmed patch of red hair at the base of my cock.

“Sam,” I gasp, lifting my hand and gripping his hair. He moans, and the vibrations ripple along my dick.

His hand slides lower, and he gently massages my balls. I can’t help myself—I begin to rock into his mouth, chasing the pleasure just dancing out of my reach. But Sam seems to like it. He grabs my hip with his other hand and encourages me to fuck into his mouth.

Then he groans again, his hand falling away from my hip and reaching between his legs to fist his cock. The fast and furious movement of his hand between his legs just out of my eyeline couples with the intense pleasure of his mouth to make me explode before I can warn him. My orgasm rips from me as I wail loudly, the sound echoing around the small bathroom.

He swallows, which tightens the suction around me and prolongs the pleasure. I hear him grunt, and as my softening cock slips from his mouth, he leans forward, pressing his head against my thigh as he shudders and comes.

I stand there stroking his hair, entranced at the sight of him riding out his pleasure. I wish I could’ve returned the favour. I want to taste him so bad. Maybe next time.

“Sam.”

He looks up at me and I offer him my hand to help him stand. I’m sure kneeling on the shower floor is probably very hard on the knees. Taking my hand, he climbs to his feet and then leans in to kiss me deeply. I can taste myself on his tongue and my poor cock tries to twitch, but he’s done.

When Sam steps back, I smile at him.

“Thank you, that was incredible.”

“My pleasure. Literally.” He glances at the come swirling down the drain.

“Maybe—” I clear my throat, feeling my face flush. “Maybe next time I could do that to you.”

“Prickles, you can do anything you want to me, although I probably should mention I don’t bottom, so really, it’s almost anything.” He smiles, and I feel my cheeks heat even further. Lifting a hand, he traces his thumb along my cheekbone. “There are so many pretty colours to you, Prickles. It was like my world only existed in shades of black and white until I met you.”

“I–uh, you should probably get washed off before the water runs cold.” I shake my head. Not sure what to say to that, but it’s the loveliest thing anyone’s ever said to me. “I could make you breakfast.”

He smiles at me and my heart starts having palpitations again.

“That would be nice.”

I nod, quickly rinse off, and climb out of the shower. “There are a couple of spare towels here for you, Sam.”

“Thanks.”

After drying off, I hang my own towel up to dry. I’m just wandering out into the bedroom when I hear my phone ringing. Grabbing my bathrobe, I quickly pull it on and tighten the belt, then pick up the phone, drop down on the side of the bed, and hit connect.

“Hey, Pops, you don’t usually call this early.” I frown. “Is everything okay?”

“Early? Harrison, it’s two in the afternoon.” His gaze sweeps over me. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

“Is he sick?” Dad calls from somewhere in the background. “What are his symptoms?”

“I’m not sick,” I reply. “I just had a really late night. I didn’t check the time on my phone when I got up.”

“You had a late night? What were you…” Pops trails off. His brows rise and his mouth falls open.

I turn to see what he’s looking at and find Sam wandering into the bedroom with a tiny towel wrapped around his waist as he rubs his dark shaggy hair with the other towel.