Page 62 of Love Language

I would like that. Please.

Marco urged him to his feet. Go use the bathroom and take a quick shower. I’ll get everything set up.

Greg couldn’t help the eagerness in his steps as he headed to the bathroom. The stresses of his week were already starting to fade. He had orders and all he had to do was follow them.

Some part of his mind made notice, again, of how very different this was from starting a scene with Richard.

Everything with Marco was just… easy. Comfortable. Like a favorite sweater or a beloved book. He might not have appreciated a relationship like this when he was younger, but it was just right for him now.

Marco was right for him. Marco was perfect.

After the shower, he found Marco in the bedroom, laying all sorts of things out on a paper towel-covered tray. It reminded Greg a bit of a doctor’s office, which sent an extra little jolt through his body.

There was something just a bit naughty about the idea of a medical professional doing something so intimate to his body with that detached reserve, even if Marco didn’t add it to the scene.

Marco had dressed up a bit, though. He’d taken off his shirt to expose his gorgeous, lean muscles and changed to a tighter pair of jeans that Greg loved seeing him in. His lips glistened a wet pink and he’d framed his eyes with two dark lines that made him look dramatic and alluring.

He looked so young, much younger than his years, but still impossibly dominant. Greg felt his erection rising between his legs. Sometimes he couldn’t believe that he was the one who was so lucky to get all this rugged prettiness.

On the bed was an ugly, flowered sheet, the dingy, reverse side up. It made Greg smile. He sort of loved that Marco found cheap, mis-matched sheets at the thrift store to spread on the bed before a scene. It wasn’t as theatrical as what Richard would have done, but it was practical. Adorable, even.

Marco had rationalized that it let him spend more time taking care of his sub and less time cleaning up, and Greg was all for that. Ugly, flowered sheet it was.

He stood by the edge of the bed, hands clasped behind his back. He’d gotten the feeling over the past few months that Marco didn’t care how he stood and maybe even liked it when he was more relaxed.

Not to mention that he had to break the pose every time he wanted to communicate.

But for the moment, it helped him feel settled. Small. Submissive. He wanted to let Marco know that he was ready.

Marco turned to him with that same seductive smile that had started to win Greg over the first night they met. He stalked over, not touching Greg, but lifting his head for a kiss.

This, too, had become a dear habit. Greg was taller, which meant that it was his duty to bend his head so that Marco could kiss him. Marco nipped at his lips and tongued the corner of his mouth, not giving in to a full kiss while Greg’s pulse leapt in anticipation.

Lay down on the bed.

Greg fumbled into position. With Richard, he would have made a show of it. But his bones were older now, and it was easier to move as his body directed. He knew that Marco would be looking at him with hungry eyes regardless.

Marco ran both hands lazily down his body, paying the same attention to his knees and shoulders that he gave to his nipples and cock. It was a horrible tease, but calming, too. He liked that Marco enjoyed all of him. That he still took his time even after almost a year together.

His hand came to rest again on Greg’s cock, touching it with clinical reserve. He shook his head in false disappointment. You’re too hard. We’ll never be able to use the sounds on you this way.

Greg felt his pulse leap. He hadn’t realized that.

Marco flung his dick around carelessly, like it wasn’t even attached to him. Of course, that did nothing to help with his difficulty.

Marco pursed his lips. I could suck you off, I suppose.

Yes, Greg thought. Please.

But this would be more effective.

And then he put an ice pack on Greg’s dick. Holy fuck that was cold. Greg’s hands flew unbidden to his crotch while he tried to twist away. But Marco just followed him, pressing harder to keep the icy torture where he wanted it. There was a thin cloth wrapped around the ice pack, but it was still agony on his vulnerable parts.

Lay down, Marco commanded. His face held a small smile, like Greg’s tormented writhing was cute. The bastard. He had planned this.

His claims not to be a sadist were total bullshit.

And Greg kind of loved him for it.