His glossy erection emerges from the peephole, fabric still damp around it.
I can’t resist one last tease, running my tongue across the head as his shorts hit the floor.
“You're asking for it,” Marco vows.
I like the sound of that.
“Make your move,” I taunt, before flicking the latch.
???
Bare feet on tiles. Naked in the moonlight.
The thrill of it makes me harden even more.
City lights sparkle and flare, traffic brooding below.
I can still taste that man on my tongue.
His chest is warm against my back.
“Clothes are for the weak,” he scoffs.
“So true,” I reply. “Let’s never wear them again.”
Behind the towers an ocean unfurls, dark and endless.
Each swell pummels the sand with a roar and a hiss.
I saunter toward the railing, turning to sit on it.
Marco grabs my wrist.
“Stay away from there unless I'm holding you!”
His tone is fiercely protective.
I step back.
He’s probably right.
Being up this high comes with obvious risks.
“At least let me fuck you before you fall!” he scolds.
I didn’t mean to scare him.
He’s cute when he’s mad at me.
“My protector,” I croon.
“You're gonna need someone to save you when I'm done,” he says.
With a squeeze of the bottle, he coats himself.
His gaze softens, burning into me.
“I so badly need…”
