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“You feel so fucking good. Nothing has ever felt better,” he grits out, and I give him that kung fu grip, rewarding his effort.
He releases my hips, and although I’m exhausted, I get the urge to go look in the mirror. I’ve never been marked before, each boyfriend telling me that’s behavior for a teenager, but I don’t accept their shame anymore. I’m packing it up and shipping it back to them because now I know how a real man makes you feel.
He folds over me, fondling my fun bags and testing their weight. “I know these tits probably give you all kinds of back problems, but I love every ounce of them. If I promise to massage you every night, will you promise never to get a reduction?”
I giggle. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m being so fucking for real right now.” He places biting kisses on my bare shoulder and I’m struck by so much unexpected emotion.
“Eaton?” I ask.
“Yeah, Baby Cakes?”
“No one has ever made me feel as special as you.”
“I’m so fucking sorry about that. It hurts me to think anyone mistreated someone so precious.” He pulls out gently. “Lie down with me.”
He lies back onto the pillows, and I snuggle into his side, weaving my fingers through his chest hair. We’re sweaty and messy and smell like sex, but I don’t care. I want to relish in this moment for as long as possible, which turns out to be not that long at all.
Our post-coital cuddle is interrupted by my cell ringing downstairs. I make no effort to move. I feel too good and although I have no idea who’s calling this late, my instincts tell me whoever it is will ruin this moment, and that’s the last thing I want right now. Eventually it quiets, only to almost immediately start ringing again.
“Do you need to get that?”
“No. Whoever it is can fuck right off. It feels too good being in your arms.”
He kisses my forehead as the phone quiets again. “I’m glad.” Seconds later, the ringing sounds again. “Are you sure? It could be important. Maybe the assisted living place Pops lives in?”
“You’re right. I should go see.” I sigh as I climb out of bed, wincing when all kinds of fluids leak down my thighs. “I don’t want to leave a trail of cum all the way down the stairs. Could you grab it for me?”
“Sure. Go get in the shower, and I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks.” I do a weird hobble to the ensuite as Eaton wipes his cock off with his T-shirt before pulling on a pair of boxers.
I hadn’t seen the bathroom before now, and I stop just past the threshold, gasping at how lux it is. Custom tile work, brushed gold fixtures, a granite top on the hand-carved vanity, and the shower. . . oh my god, the shower. It’s as big as the entire bathroom in my apartment. Spanning the whole back wall, the steam shower boasts textured tiles, a rainfall shower on one end, and I count six shower heads going halfway down the other. And holy fuck, there’s a tub.
“I live here,” I whisper. “This is my shower. I can use it whenever I want.”
Hand to God, even if Eaton was a dick, I’d put up with it for this shower alone. Of course I won’t tell him that, but things would have to get pretty bad before I’d give this slice of heaven up.
Giddy with excitement, I turn on the rainfall option and warm water falls down on me, but not like at home, where I have to wait ten minutes for the water to heat. Color me happy, but this man has an on-demand water heater. How is this my life? I spend a good long while cleaning between my legs, which is no easy feat, but I smile the whole time, thinking about how I got this way.
I wish I could freeze time so I could just enjoy this moment for a little longer, but I’m not naive enough to think it’ll stay this way, so I soak up as much bliss as I can.
