Page 20 of The Truth of Loving You

“Wait here,” I commanded.

Shane’s eyes knocked me off my feet. If a man was capable of actual heart eyes, Shane embodied it. Everything was laid out on his face for me to see, his calm contentment and gratitude. The pull was back, the one that made it hard for me to leave the room.

I started the shower, letting the water warm up and then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. I uncapped it as I knelt over Shane. Lifting him back into my lap in a sitting position, I brought the bottle to his mouth.

“Drink this, and then we’re getting you in the shower to warm up,” I said, and Shane held my wrist instead of taking the bottle from me.

Pleasure spread through me with the knowledge that I’d given Shane what he needed. I did something for him that no one else had ever done. He wanted to take what I was offering him.

Picking Shane up, I carried him into the bathroom. The steam had fogged up the mirror and created a cocoon of warmth. Shane was unsteady, so I stripped and stepped into the shower, holding him against me while the water poured down his back. Gradually, he came back to himself and looped his arms around my back.

“How do you feel?” My voice clogged with a riot of emotions.

“Amazing.” Shane sighed, sagging against me, so I supported his weight. “I want to see all your tattoos when we finish. You’re walking art.”

My heart clenched, and I pushed it aside, unwilling to acknowledge it. I felt Shane’s cock as it started getting hard, and he tried to push away from me.

“It’s okay.” I bit into the soft, fleshy part of his neck where it met his shoulder.

I’d lied to myself, pretending that I was doing this for Shane. But right now, I needed to be close to him. Giving him what he needed gave me a high I wasn’t ready to come down from. He’d wanted one night of no guilt, no regret. It suddenly felt necessary to indulge in taking care of him until he could stand on his own.

I reached between us to stroke his cock. Slicked with water and conditioner, my hand glided over his shaft, long and lean and beautiful like the rest of him. I’d missed this, a cock filling my hand with its hard, soft skin. A strangled noise vibrated in the back of Shane’s throat as my thumb circled his slit. Pulling him out of the stream of water, I leaned him against the shower wall. I slid my hand down his back, between his legs to cup his balls. They were heavier than I expected and wouldn’t fit in my mouth if I tried.

Shane’s eyes were glued to where my hand worked his cock. In slow motion, his hand reached for mine.

“This is for you,” I said, letting go of his balls and tracing a finger over his hole.

“I want to.” Shane’s fingers circled my cock. “Please.” His eyes pleaded with me.

I swallowed. “Just hold it until I’m done with you.”

I wanted him to enjoy every second of the orgasm I was going to give him while I watched. This time his orgasm was all mine.

Shane’s eyes became unfocused as his lips parted and his chest heaved. He squeezed my cock but struggled to do more. I wedged my thigh between his legs to stabilize him.

I pressed my middle finger against his hole to bring his nerve endings to life. Shane came alive for me. Thrusting into my hand, moaning and spouting pleas for more, and cursing. I watched in awe as this beautiful man came all over my hand, wishing his hand wasn’t over my cock, so it would also be covered.

“Wow.” Shane let out a shaky laugh. “You broke my brain. No words.”

“That was the plan.” I chuckled, feeling his lightness was contagious. “Let me wash you.” I tried to steer him back under the water.

“You next.” Shane stood his ground, and his grip tightened on me.

This man tore down all of my resistance. For good or for bad, I never wanted to say no to him. “I’ll use this to jack myself, and you can watch.” My palm was slick with his cum.

“Me.” He held out his hand.

My mouth went dry, knowing I’d made him almost nonverbal in his pleasure.

The last half hour had ignited a new level of lust in me, and I was about to blow. “If you touch me, I won’t last.”

Shane’s eyes lit up, and he jerked me toward him by my cock. He took my wrist, so our palms connected and then he slathered my cock with his seed. Knowing I was covered in his cum dragged a guttural moan out of me. In a few strokes, I was painting him with my orgasm.

He looked like a debauched sex God—wet and covered in my cum. The image would stay with me long after he left. Shane looked like mine.

I’d left my brain at the bar.

“Thank you for tonight,” Shane said, leaning forward.

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