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“Oh,” he says, his eyes sparkling with humor. “Need something?”
I swallow instead of asking.
“I noticed the way you reacted at the club when that man swiped his finger over the woman’s little asshole.”
My breath hitches when he does exactly that to me.
“I knew it’s what you wanted. It is, isn’t it?”
I nod, my muscles tensing as I try to resist lifting my leg once again.
Suddenly he stands, and disappointment washes over me in a way that threatens to make me irrationally angry.
“Do you have lube?”
My body sings with need at his question.
“Over there on the shelf,” I pant, reality not hitting until he makes a sound of surprise in his throat.
He’s grinning when I look over at him, a bottle of lube in one hand and a silicone toy in the other.
“Who cleans your room?” he asks, twirling the toy in his hand.
“We clean our own space,” I say, a little offended at him thinking we need someone to take care of us. “We’re adults after all.”
“Calm down,” he says, laughter in his tone. “I was wondering if you kept this out at all times.”
“I don’t, actually,” I say, wishing he’d just drop the subject and get back to what he’d planned on doing.
“You forgot it the last time you used it?”
I break eye contact with him, embarrassment heating my neck and cheeks.
“You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”
“Are you done?” I ask, turning away to turn off the water.
“I like being surprised,” he says, the warmth of his body covering my back just as slick fingers trace the crease between my cheeks. “Turn around.”
I should tell him to go home, but my head and body aren’t exactly connected right now.
“I know this is what you want,” he says, once again teasing that sensitive area behind my balls. “And if you get that, then I get this.”
In less than a second, he’s on his knees, his mouth teasing the head of my cock. The urgency in my body hasn’t waned even after my first orgasm.
“Up,” he urges, his free hand pressing against the back of my thigh.
I lift my leg, positioning my foot on the small bench built into the shower.
Next, he grabs my hand and places it on the back of his head. My fingers don’t waste a second, tangling in the soaked strands.
I hear rather than see him coat the toy in lube, and my legs are trembling by the time he sweeps it over that forbidden part of me.
My fingers hold on tighter, my grip urging his mouth further down my length. I feel like an animal, controlled by instinct and need, rather than cognizant thought. Drake doesn’t seem to mind if I’m reading the noises he’s making correctly.
My knees threaten to give out with the blindingly amazing pressure I feel when he presses the toy to my entrance. I try not to tense up, but that’s something I’m rarely capable of controlling even when I’m alone. I have the toy out of necessity, and I don’t indulge this way very often. It’s what got me excommunicated from my childhood home after all.
“So tight,” Drake says, his words ghosting over the tip of my cock.
He presses a little further, the first bead of the toy making its way past that initial ring of muscle.
I gasp, unable to contain my reaction as I lift on the tip of my toes.
“I think I’d come the second I got my tip in you.”
“Drake,” I pant as he pulls the toy out, only to push it back in again.
I have absolutely no control over my body, and the second he leans forward again and wraps his mouth around me, I explode, the orgasm the only thing keeping me from crying out in embarrassment.
Instead of dwelling on it, I grip Drake’s hair tighter, dragging him to standing, my mouth colliding with his the second it’s within reach. He kisses me hard, his body pressing against mine so roughly, I have to take a step back, wincing when the shower control digs into my spine.
I’m insatiable, licking the taste of myself from his mouth.
The kissing doesn’t stop. The hands don’t stop wandering for a very long time, but by the time they do, our bodies are mostly dry, other than the second orgasm Drake has, painting my hip.
My lips feel raw and swollen when he finally takes a step back, his eyes unfocused.
“You’re taller than me,” I say stupidly, realizing only now that I have to look up a little to stare directly into his eyes.
“Only by an inch or so. Besides,” he says, tracing a finger down my sensitive cock. “Your inches are elsewhere.”
I jerk my hips back, wanting more but knowing I’ll end up raw if we keep going.
“Might want to wash that off,” he says, pointing to the creamy mess on my skin as he steps out of the shower.
