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When I get to his feet, he lifts one leg, then the other so I can pull his clothes the rest of the way off. I look up at him, and his eyes meet mine.

“You’re so beautiful,” Sir says, reaching out and caressing my cheek, causing warmth to flood me.

“Will you smack me, please?”

“Are you sure you can handle it right now?”

I figure he means so I don’t let out the water, but I feel okay. I know I can do this.

I nod, and a stinging smack lands on my cheek. Blood rushes to my groin, making me harder.

“Again,” I beg, wanting more of this glorious torture, but then another cramp hits.

“No. Not yet. Sit on the toilet.”

Oh…oh.

Sir chuckles. “Didn’t think about that part, did you?” He crosses his arms and leans against the wall.

“No, I didn’t. I’m not sure why. You’re going to stay in here?”

Despite knowing the answer, I watch him expectantly. When he nods, I sigh and sit on the toilet.

“Remember, you can always use your safe word if you want me to leave.”

But as weird and uncomfortable as this is, I don’t want to use my safe word. There’s something about letting him see these parts of me that makes me feel even more connected to him. When you’re dating someone, you try to only let them in on the good parts, the sexy or desirable ones, but with Sir and me, it’s never really been that. He’s seen me in ways no one ever has, and while he’s more experienced, I’d like to think there is something different in how I’m seeing him too.

When I don’t give him the word, he nods and says, “Go ahead, whenever you’re ready.” He then starts messing with the faucets, turning the shower on.

Face flaming, I do my business with the shower running and Sir leaning against the opposite wall, watching. The expression on his face doesn’t change. He doesn’t look grossed out or anything like that.

I’m not sure my face has ever been hotter, and it takes a while to finish, but when I’m done, Sir tells me, “Good boy.”

“If you say so,” I reply, and he frowns.

“I do. You’re so good for me. Now wash your hands and get into the shower.”

I swallow the knot in my throat, both excited and nervous for what’s to come.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Marshall

Ifollow Jayinto the shower. He stands beneath the spray, and I wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his neck.

“Your Sir is so proud of you. I know that was hard and embarrassing for you, but you did it.” I slide my hand down his body, wrap it around his shaft, and stroke.

“Oh God.” He melts against me, body trembling. I run my hand up and down his cock a couple of times before letting go and smacking his erection. My boy hisses in pain, the sound music to both our ears.

Reaching in front of him, I grab the sponge and soap and step back.

“Please touch me,” he begs, the gentlest whimper in his voice.

“I’ll make you come soon. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

I pull him out from under the water and run the soapy sponge all over his body—back, thighs, ass, between his cheeks. Jay reaches out, bracing his hand against the wall, when I run the sponge over his hole.

“Look at you. My slutty boy loves his hole being touched. You live for it, don’t you? Would be satisfied with cock in your ass all day every day.”

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