Page 66 of Power Play

“Wow.” I drag my fingers through his cum. I’ve felt the substance before, obviously, but never likethis. Never in a spot so visible, like I’m being marked. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Was it?” Liam uses his thumb to spread his cum across my chest. He circles my nipples and paints my skin a shade it’s never been before. “Goddamn. I did make a mess of you. You look perfect.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Now I’m imagining you with cum on your face. Down your throat and on your ass.”

My heart races in my chest imagining those things too. “Where do you usually finish?”

“On my stomach in my bed with a washcloth beside me.”

“That doesn’t sound sexy at all.”

“Trust me, it’s not.”

“What about when you’re with a woman?”

“C’mon, Pipsqueak. My memory isn’t that good.” He winces as he tugs on his softening cock one more time. “In a condom, I guess. Finishing on someone’s tits definitely warrants a conversation prior to doing it. Imagine if I didn’t give you any warning about what was about to happen.”

“I probably would’ve dropkicked you.”

“And it would’ve been deserved.”

“You can clean up first.” I gesture to the door on his right. “The bathroom is through there.”

I watch Liam waddle away, pants shoved past his knees and his sculpted ass gloriously on display. When the door shuts, I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling. My heart races, and I grin at how the night has gone.

Heat rises on my skin when I touch my chest again, the reminder of him still on my breasts.

I never thought the male orgasm could be attractive. Steven would lie there. Make a noise or two, jerk a few times, and finish.

But Liam?

Liam is a work of art.

I’m committing the ways he moved his hands to memory, wanting to try them myself the next time we’re together. I’m trying to remember the grunts he made so I can know if what I’m doing to him is working.

The door to my bathroom opens and snaps me out of my trance. Liam’s pants are back in place, and he looks more put together than he did a few minutes ago.

“Your faucet leaks,” he says.

“It does. I’ve been meaning to get maintenance in here to fix it, but I keep forgetting.”

“I’ll bring some tools next time I’m over.”

“You know how to fix a faucet?”

“No, but YouTube does.”

I laugh. “Sounds like I might end up with a flooded bathroom.”

He holds up a washcloth. “Brought you something to clean up.”

“Thank you.” I reach out to take the damp rag, but he doesn’t hand it over. “I can?—”

The mattress dips under his weight. He wrings out the cloth and water rolls over my breasts. “I like this part. The caretaking.”

“You do?”

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