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What’s he doing in there?
For a moment, I wonder if it disgusted him, his hand on my dick. But then discard it.
No, no, that’s not it. He’s seen me come before when we were in high school. We’d sat side by side and jacked off multiple times. And since then, he’s been in contact with all my bodily fluids and never once seemed grossed out.
No, this is something different.
The water shuts off and Finn emerges, a cloud of steam behind him, a towel wrapped around his waist.
“I’m hurt I wasn’t invited,” I tell him, a smile on my lips. “I could have joined you. We could have washed each other’s backs.”
He meets my gaze and rolls his eyes.
“And each other’s dicks,” I tack on because he’s being an asshole.
He stumbles slightly but rights himself quickly. When he gets to the dresser, he drops his towel and I admire his ass for a minute as he bends down and pulls on a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved white shirt.
“I’m making breakfast.”
I pout and scoot to the end of the bed.
He peeks over at me and sighs, moving to where I am and holding out his arms.
“That’s what I thought, Finn. Trying to be so cold. But you’re just a big marshmallow. A hot, toasty one. You’re a motherfucking s’more.”
He snorts as I wrap myself around him and he picks me up, carrying me to the bathroom so I can shower. I nibble on his neck the entire time, just tasting him.
“Stop it,” he mutters, his hands gripping my ass and I kiss his ear.
“I am taking after Vincent. Just get me a collar and tote me around.”
He sets me on the counter and turns on the water.
“Maybe I’ll get you a muzzle.”
“Even better. And get me a cock cage too. Make me your bitch, Finn.”
He stiffens, his brows raised. “Honestly, where do you come up with this shit?”
I huff a laugh and lean back on my hands, my happy dick settled right against my thigh.
“I have a weird brain. I think it’s genetic. You’ve met my dad, right?”
“Right, why did I even ask.” He picks me up and sets me down on the shower chair, the hot water raining down on me.
“I’ll grab your prosthetic,” he says and closes the curtain, leaving me to sit and wash.
When I’m done, I dry off, put on my prosthetic, and walk into the bedroom to dress before meeting Finn in the kitchen.
“Ah, cooking me breakfast,” I coo and then peer over at the coffee maker.
“You’re out of coffee beans,” Finn says, and my eyebrows meet.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter. “I need my coffee, Finn. You know how I get.”
“Yeah, well you also need to eat, or else you turn into a real bitch. Let’s do that first and then we can grab something on the way to your parents’.”
I groan and flop down onto a seat, stretching my prosthetic out in front of me and rubbing my thighs.
