44. Chapter 37
Dashiell
The shower is easily big enough for two. Lorenzo’s hand rests on the small of my back, steering me into the bathroom.
“Take your clothes off,” Lorenzo orders once the bathroom door shuts behind us.
Thankful for the direction the instruction gives me, I comply. First, I remove my shirt, then my shoes, my socks, my pants, and finally my underwear.
“Let me look at you,” Lorenzo murmurs once I’m standing there naked.
I feel no sense of self-consciousness, being exposed like this before him. He’s seen me naked several times now. He’s watched me jerk off, watched me shove a massive dildo up my ass. He’s tied me up and edged me until I’ve nearly cried. Standing naked in front of him is nothing.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.
Pride flushes warmly through my body. My cock stiffens under his observation. “Thanks, Lorenzo.”
He turns the shower on and directs me to get into it, once the water has heated. I step into the spray and close my eyes, letting the heat loosen the exhaustion from my muscles.
I hear the sound of clothes hitting the floor. When I open my eyes, Lorenzo is standing there naked, about to enter the shower.
And god fucking damn it, if he isn’t the most attractive person I’ve ever seen.
In the last few weeks, I’ve grown familiar with the visual landscape of his body. I would like to grow more familiar with its physical landscape, too, but he has limited how much we touch each other. No matter how many times I see him naked, though, the sight still takes my breath away.
The term “good-looking” just doesn’t cut it. He has a collection of traits that are generally considered attractive: broad shoulders, big muscles, good hair, strong features.
He isn’t perfect. He doesn’t have an eight-pack of abs. He has more body hair than some guys might like.
But he’s perfect for me.
The thought slips through the mental barriers I’ve carefully constructed around all things Lorenzo-related.
Perfect for me.
He joins me in the shower. I move over to give him space beneath the water, too.
“You’re staring at my penis,” he comments dryly.
“Can you blame me?”
“Hm. Maybe I’ll have to blindfold you, later.”
I wonder if he notices how the very thought of that makes my cock even harder.
He reaches past me for the soap, lathering the bar in his broad hands. “Turn around.”
I obey, facing the spray, and he settles his hands on my shoulders. Slowly, he washes my body, working his way from my shoulders down. His touch is both deep and gentle, kneading at my sore muscles, scrubbing away the grime of a twenty-four-hour workday.
“You don’t need to do this,” I whisper.
“I want to.” His hands work down my back, skimming my sides, approaching my ass.
I can’t help it—I moan in pleasure when he massages the sore muscles of my ass, then slips his hands between my cheeks to feel me there.
“You know what I’ve been wanting to do for a long time?” he murmurs.
“What?” I ask as one of his fingers finds my hole, presses lightly into me.
His voice comes from behind me, tantalizingly close to my ear. “Taste you.”
Fuck yes.
“By all means, taste away!”
He lowers himself to his knees behind me, uses his hands to spread me open. I lean against the wall of the shower, bracing myself against my forearms, trying to prepare myself for what comes next, and—
He spits on my hole.
I have always loved getting my ass eaten, and Lorenzo makes me feel like I’m a multi-course meal. His tongue pushes inside of me, tasting me. He spreads me open, licks me, bites me, consumes me. I rest my head against the shower wall, grinding my ass against his face as he pulls me closer.
“Fuck, Dash,” he says, drawing back and slapping my ass. “You taste so fucking good.”
My only response is a pleased whimper.
Before I’ve fully recovered from the ass-eating, Lorenzo shuts the water off and spins me around to face him. My body presses up close to his and I feel the hard heat of his erection against my stomach.
“Enough of that,” he says, his voice rough. “I want you in bed.”
“Yes, sir,” I gasp.
But he hasn’t waited for my response. He takes my hand, pulls me out of the shower, and grabs a towel, dragging it over my skin. He’s fast and rough, now, no longer gentle. He dries himself in under ten seconds and drops the towel on the marble floor of the bathroom.
“My bedroom. Now.”
All traces of my earlier exhaustion are gone. Instead, my body buzzes with anticipation. I go to the bedroom, my legs slightly unsteady. I don’t care. I hope that he’s about to take me all the way, and if he does, my legs certainly won’t be steady after that.
He follows me into the bedroom. The second the door shuts behind him, his posture changes. His spine goes straight, his jaw tightens, and any softness lingering from the shower is fully put away.
This is Lorenzo the Dom.
“Get on the bed and lie on your back.”
I stretch myself out, my head and shoulders propped up on pillows, my naked body almost chilly now that I’ve left the shower behind.
He notices me shivering.
“Cold?”
“Yes, sir.”
He hums low in his throat, his eyes sliding slowly over my body. One of his hands plays idly with his cock. I want to touch mine, but he hasn’t given me permission yet. He’s in charge right now.
“You know what I’m going to do, Dash?” he says, approaching the bed.
“What?”
He reaches the bed. Bends down to brace his hands against it so that he looms over me. When he speaks, his voice finds a place deep in my soul, unlocking me. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll need your two days off to recover.”