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He slaps his cock head against mine a few times before shoving me to the floor. My ass hits the porcelain with a thud but the pain subsides the moment he climbs on top of me, lining my cock with his again, our balls slapping together as he increases the roll of his hips.
The water runs cold above us, intensifying my sensitivity as it mixes with the heat spreading inside me. Iggy moving against me, breathing loud and heavy with soft moans filling the air, is all the proof of life I don't know I can go without now.
I tense and my cock twitches against his, our cum mixing together as we both let go. His head lands on my shoulder and we sit there for what feels like hours just wrapped in each other's wet bodies as we come down from the clouds.
I was never a believer in Heaven and I'm still not sure I am but where we went was a place beyond the stars and far away from earth. No one else could touch us there and all problems were temporarily gone. I know once we break apart, they will all return, along with new ones I never thought I could have.
So many mixed emotions fill me and I'm not even sure how to explain them all. Some are new and others are as confusing now as they were in the basement cellar.
I can't stop thinking about our bodies writhing together, the way he struck a spark inside me like when a match comes in contact with a matchbox. We rose with the flame, burning bigger and brighter than any light. More than enough to keep out the darkness. What happens when I leave this room? Will I be smothered in it again? Does it only disappear when he's around?
I've lived most of my life happy and easily without him. I should be able to do it again. I was once enough to keep myself going, and every time I try to find my way back, I wind up here in his arms instead. It's a never-ending loop I'm trapped in and instead of it feeling like a burden, it's the only time it doesn't hurt to breathe.
We eventually break apart at the sound of Ignacio's stomach growling.
“Was that you or me?” he asks, getting to his feet.
Chuckling, I slowly stand up, grasping onto the railing on the wall. My legs shake and my head is groggy from getting up too fast. “You can't tell when noises come from your own stomach?”
“I don't even know where the hell I am right now.” He stands under the shower, running his hand through his wet curls.
“I know the feeling.” I get out of the tub and reach for the first towel I see, quickly drying off. I need to get out of here before I not only forget where I am but also who I'm supposed to be. I'm a federal agent who was assigned to bring down a well-known crime lord while protecting his family. Nowhere in the file does it state sharing a bed and showers with his son.
What we've been doing has been inappropriate but what we did in the shower is far beyond coming back from. It was sex in a way I've never experienced and the shame I expect to feel afterward still hasn't come.
I'm not gay but it doesn't stop me from wanting him again. Not once have I imagined being with a man, and when I think of him it's not even in a sexual sense. I want to be close to him, take care of him, and make him feel safe. In the shower, it felt like I was doing all three at once.
It wasn't about getting off or fulfilling some fantasy. Ignacio is beautiful but I don’t feel attracted to him the way I have with the women I dated. He feels nothing like them either. He isn’t as soft and has more hair. The scruff from his incoming beard scratches my skin when he rubs against me and his cock always comes in contact with mine in some way when we lie or sit together.
I don’t focus on what’s on the outside. Everything he is inside is what I need to get closer to.
He steps behind me, reaching for his toothbrush. “You leaving already?”
“Yes. I have lunch plans.”
“Big date?” he asks, turning on the faucet, shoving me over.
“No.” I drop my towel and reach for my underwear. “I'm meeting my mom and probably some surprise guest.”
“It's so weird thinking of you with a family.” He shoves the toothbrush in his mouth, brushing fast and aggressively.
I arch a brow and slowly pull on my clothes. “What do you mean?”
He spits into the sink. “You said you were raised in foster care. Did you forget already?”
“Oh, right.” I tug the hem of my shirt, shifting my eyes to my bare feet. “I had to—”
“Pretend to be someone else to complete your job? Yes, I know. Was anything you ever said true? Did you even have a dog named Buddy?”
Smiling softly, I nod. “Yeah. He was the first pet I ever owned. My mom found him out shivering in the snow one winter.”
His eyes brighten. “So the pictures you showed me—”
“Were real.”
“What happened to him?”
My throat goes dry and it aches to swallow. “I lost him to a hit and run. He got out of the yard and a car drove past a stop sign, speeding, and didn't stop even after they hit him.”
