Page 55 of Inferno

His groans of frustration are like music to my ears. I want—no, need—him to crave me the way I crave him, so if leaving him a little desperate reinforces that only I can give him what he needs, then I’m more than okay with that.

Massaging shampoo and then conditioner into his hair, I dig my fingers into his scalp, enjoying the sighs and moans that slip from his lips. Turning him beneath the spray again, I work my fingers through his hair, making sure that all of the suds have gone, before I finally refocus on his body.

Pumping a small amount of soap into my palm, I lather his length, gripping his cock firmly, before I twist my fist down to his balls and cup them, washing them thoroughly. Once I’m content that he’s all clean, I reach for the small tube of lube I placed in here earlier. Not showing him what I’m using, I squeeze some onto my fingers, then part his cheeks and rub my fingers over his hole.

Despite moving slowly enough that he was expecting my touch, he still jolts at my first contact with his tightness. When I touched him like this this morning, he wasn’t scared, so I know it’s not real fear that has him startling away from me.

“Relax,” I whisper against his shoulder as I place my palm on his stomach and carefully work a single finger into his ass.

The moment I breach his tight ring of muscle, he exhales softly, then groans.

“How does that feel?” I ask.

“Weird…good.”

“Perfect.”

“Are you going to fuck me?” he asks, the waver in his voice letting me know that he wants it but is scared too.

“Not right now, no.”

“Then why…” His voice trails off.

“Do you want to sit with a hard cock all night, or would you rather I made you come?”

“Come,” he blurts quickly. “I want to come.”

“Then you know what to do,” I tease, carefully pushing in a second finger alongside the first and slowly pumping them in and out of his body.

“Oh god,” he whimpers, bearing down on my fingers, allowing me to push them in a little deeper. “Please.”

“You know how to ask,” I taunt him.

“Please…oh god. Please, can I come?”

“Good boy. Come while I finger your tight little ass. Let me watch you explode.”

Pumping my fingers in and out of his hole, I spread them apart, stretching him while he pushes back onto me, fucking my hand like he wishes it was my cock. It doesn’t take long for his movements to become shaky, and when he comes, it’s fucking perfect. His untouched dick swells seconds before thick ropes of cum burst from the head.

He’s so fucking responsive, and I love that he comes so easily the moment I play with his ass. I can’t wait to fuck him. My own dick twitches and weeps precum as I imagine that it’s my cock, not my fingers, stretching his tight hole and filling him with my cum.

“So good, so perfect, so mine,” I praise, keeping my fingers pressed deep inside of him, but no longer moving.

“Fuck me,” he whines.

“What?”

“Please. God, I need to come again, so please, please, fuck me.”

It takes every ounce of my self-control not to replace my fingers with my cock, but I don’t want his first time to be in the shower. I want him in my bed. I want him mindless and desperate, his hole soft and prepped and full of lube so the first time I slide my dick into him all he feels is unadulterated pleasure.

“Not here,” I whisper, collaring his throat and turning his chin so I can kiss him.

“Why?”

“Because the first time I take you, it won’t be in the shower. It’ll be in our bed so I can watch you when I fill you up.”

“I need…” His lips open and close, and it’s clear he’s trying to decide how to articulate what he wants.

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