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I nod again. Yes. Yep. Got that message loud and clear.
“Good,” he says, thumb rolling over my slit. I buck into his hand, unable not to. Unlike last time, he doesn’t tell me to keep still. He rolls his thumb over my crown again and again until I’m moaning, writhing, and then he stops.
I pant a breath as his hand squeezes my neck gently.
“But outside of sex,” he goes on, waiting until I meet his eye, “you’re not under my control. I’m not going to tell you how to act or give you rules to follow. I’m not going to dictate your life, and I don’t think you want me to.”
I shake my head. No, I don’t. I can see why the concept would appeal to some—the loss of choice, the enforcement of routine. But I’ve been treated like a wayward child by my family all my life, and I don’t want the same treatment from my partner.
Teddy starts stroking me again, the shower forgotten. “That brings me to number two,” he says, thumb skimming the front of my throat as his other hand works my cock so slowly I feel like I might combust. “I’m not your guardian, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to take care of you.”
My breath catches.
“So if you want a bath,” Teddy says softly, “I will run you one. I will cook for you sometimes, as I suspect you might for me. If you’re cold, I will get you a blanket. It has nothing to do with control. It’s about looking after what’s mine. Got it?”
I nod, even as my heart pounds. It sounds a hell of a lot like Teddy is talking about what people do in a real relationship, but we don’t have that, do we? We’re just two husbands having sex, which, fuck… That doesn’t sound better.
“Good,” Teddy says again, letting my neck go. “Now that that’s settled, we can have some fun.”
I don’t have time to ponder those words before Teddy is removing his thigh from between my legs and spinning me toward the wall. I catch myself, palms flat on the tile, as Teddy grabs my leg, hoisting it up until my foot is on the ledge at the side of the shower stall.
“Jesus,” I breathe out, pulse racing at the quick and easy manhandling. “You make me feel like a damn ragdoll, Teddy.”
He steps in close, the heat of him at my back. His fingers trail over my ass, between my cheeks, down to my balls.
“Would you like that?” he says in that calm, low tone. He toys with my sac, his other hand landing flat beside mine on the wall. “Do you want to be my doll, Kipp?”
My breath leaves me in a rush.
“Mine to toss around and care for,” he says, lips near my ear. His hand journeys along my perineum before he taps my bent leg. “Mine to maneuver however I want, fuck however I want.”
Holy shit. Yeah, yes, please.
Teddy’s hand returns to my ass, fingers pressing against my hole. “Mine to use and cherish and play with. Is that what you want, Kipp? To be treated like the precious babydoll you are?”
Fucking hell. I drop my head to the wall, panting into the steamy air.
“Words, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” I whisper, licking my lips. “Yes. Please.”
He rumbles, his touch leaving me. I nearly whimper, but then I hear the click of a bottle. I try to turn my head, but Teddy grabs my neck, stilling me.
“Don’t fucking move, babydoll. Stay where I put you.”
Fu-u-uck.
My cock throbs, dribbling precum. Teddy doesn’t remove his hand until I plant my forehead against the tile. His fingers sink into my hair.
“Good doll.”
My knee gives out, but Teddy is quick to grab me, his arm around my waist.
“So fucking pretty,” he says, his hand sinking between my ass cheeks again. He rubs over my hole, his fingers wet. “Just look at you. Ready and willing for me.”
So goddamn willing.
He sinks a finger inside my ass, and it takes everything in me to stay upright, even with Teddy’s firm hold around my middle. I groan into the tiles, every nerve ending in my body sensitized as if Teddy has been working me over for hours, not mere seconds. His finger strokes in and out before he presses in with two, the stretch burning in the best way. The ache boils over into pleasure as Teddy rubs my prostate.
