“Yeah.” I licked the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum. Fuck, it was so good.
Rowan bound my wrists together to the headboard with my lacy thigh-highs. “Is this okay?” He wiggled a finger between the binds and my hands. “Not too tight?”
“Nope.” I pulled on the restraints and grinned up at him. If I tried hard enough, I could free myself, but that was not the point.
“Good. These will leave pretty marks.” He traced the lace, then my fingers one by one, and took his cock away from me.
I released a whine.
He kissed me, delving his tongue in, gliding it against mine in an elegant swoop. He was tasting his pre-cum, and the mix of sweet and filthy was so characteristic of him.
“Hips up.” He patted my ankle, and I obliged. He slid a pillow under my ass and arranged it as if he was decorating a plate for a restaurant dinner.
Rowan took a cube in his mouth and traced it over my groin and down my thigh. He lifted my leg up and slid it under my knee, down my calf until he sucked my big toe into his mouth. Moaning, did the same to every single toe, then did the same with the other foot. The cool sensation was like a brand he was leaving in his wake—I could still feel it when he had moved on to the next spot. It was new. Exhilarating.
With another cube he held in his fingers, he traveled back up and stopped at my cock. He gave the head a tiny kiss, then delved under my balls. I groaned with pleasure and applauded his ideas for how to cool my body down.
The cold of the ice contracted the muscles of my pucker.
Rowan swallowed the ice and chuckled. “Let it in.”
He took another cube and pressed it into my hole. It went in, spreading cold inside. I arched, rolling my hips on the pillow.
Rowan held my things to my chest and kissed my calf. “Can you give it back to me before it melts?”
I strained. “I don’t think I can.”
“I believe in you.” He ran a finger along the underside of my dick, teasing.
Moaning, I pushed it out.
“That’s right, sweetheart, my little coffee bean.” Rowan caught it into his mouth and rose above me for a kiss. It was needy and so intense, his beard scratched my face, but it was exactly how I liked it. I loved when Rowan was so lost in passion that he let go of his delicate ways with me and took what he needed from me.
I wanted to share one more experience with him, and I was working on accomplishing my goal. The dildos in my suitcase were there to prove it.
Author’s notes:
A fandom friend of mine (shout out to CarmillaCarmine!) wanted a black wedding cake, but no one in the area was willing to make it! So this one is for you, babe!
Milo
“Can you decide on a song and let it play?” Rowan grumbled affectionately.
I’d been jumping through playlists since we began our trip back home. Well, to my home.
“Yes, but some of them are so long, like over four minutes.”
“Listen to more punk rock, lots of short songs there.” He patted my thigh. “Or, hear me out: I can get off the highway and onto a quiet country road, and you could drive the car. Would you want to?”
I put my hand on his and squeezed. “I don’t know. Maybe. My mom taught me all the ins and outs, and I drove Anabelle to the store a few times as an adult, but I never got my licence.”
“I’ll be next to you, and we’ll make sure we won’t get caught.” Rowan’s voice was soft and encouraging, as if he believed I could do it.
Bile rose in my throat. What if I caused an accident and hurt Rowan? No, he wouldn’t let me. It was a stupid, irrational fear. My parents had been killed by a drunk driver. I wasn’t under the influence and neither was Rowan.
“Okay. I want to try.”
Rowan took the nearest exit, and we ended up on a road with a cornfield on one side and a forest on the other when he pulled to a stop. I stepped out and dropped into the driver’s seat.
