Page 13 of With You

I teasingly drop my hands to my sides and step away from his body. “Is this what you want?”

Julian’s shoulders rise and fall as he tries to regulate his breathing. Turning around, he stands there staring at me, needwritten all over him. His muscles are tight and strained, his cock bobbing in the air, desperate for attention.

“I’m going to have a shower,” he says, repeating the exact words that led us in here in the first place. He glances down at my erection, and his tongue peeks out hungrily. “Want to join me?”

The shower isfull of steam as I enter it, Julian languidly rubbing soap all over his body as he waits for me. The decision to hang back while he started the shower has my heart rate regulating and my blood pumping slower. It’s a constant state of back and forth, wanting the release but wanting the buildup more. We’ve always been like this, alternating from hard to soft and fast to slow and all the way back again.

Stepping into the spray, I stand behind Julian and let my hands roam over his lathered-up skin as he turns around to face me. Wordlessly, he presses his lips to mine, and our hands keep busy touching and exploring. Mine move down the length of his back, settling on his backside, caressing his firm ass. He pumps the body wash into his hands and lazily washes me.

My tongue dances with his, but it’s a slow dance, our mouths moving without urgency. Our bodies continue to meld together, skin against skin, hands everywhere and nowhere all at once. It’s the prelude to the main event, the introduction to the night, the beginning of the rest of our lives.

We take turns rinsing one another, my fingers grazing his nipples, his skating my length. I wash his hair and he rinses mine. If my lips aren’t on his, his eyes are getting lost in mine, nothing but the purest love between us.

In silence, I turn off the water and watch Julian step out of the shower and dry himself. I reach for a towel, but he swats my arm away and grabs it himself.

“Let me,” he says.

He starts at my hair and makes his way down my body—my torso, my groin, my thighs. He lowers himself to his knees, heat-filled eyes glancing up at me expectantly, and suddenly we’re back to the hot and heavy portion of the evening.

Extending my arm, I hold it out for him, and he takes it, rising up to his feet. I guide us out of the bathroom, and he leads us toward the bed. I push him onto the mattress and then quickly detour to our bag and grab the lube.

Upon my return, Julian is sitting on the edge of the mattress, stroking himself. I haphazardly throw the bottle on the bed and kneel between his spread legs.

He cards his fingers through my hair as I begin to trail kisses up the inside of his thigh. I bury my face in his groin, breathing him in, the whole day somehow narrowing down to this very moment.

I live for him, and not in a he’s-the-only-reason-I’m-alive way but that everything I do is for him, to make him feel cherished and wanted and loved.

Me on my knees, vowing to love and worship him.

“This…” Despite my arousal, my voice is laced with so much emotion, it almost feels hard to breathe. “This is where I want to start and end every day. With you.”

JULIAN

After a day filled with nothing but love, it’s overwhelming how much more there is to feel and say. Deacon, on his knees in front of me, somehow still surprising me at every turn.

I love that there are so many layers to him. He’s a man of juxtapositions, hard and soft, teacher and student, dominant and submissive, flexible and firm. He truly is whatever I need him to be ineverymoment.

My cock aches at his nearness. I’m torn between the slow build and the eventual release. I love the way both things feel, because there is something so incredibly satisfying about being able to touch and explore and torture and tease all in the same breath. Even after all these years.

Pushing my legs farther apart, Deacon finally puts his mouth where I need it most. Pressing open-mouthed kisses along the length of my cock, he cradles my sac in one hand, wrapping his fingers around my dick with the other.

He guides my shaft between his lips, the wet heat of his mouth all I can feel. Brown eyes meet his blue, and I watch him watch me as he takes me down his throat. My eyes become fixed on the bob of his head and the hollow of his cheeks as he eagerly licks and sucks.

Firm, callused hands grip the back of my thighs, lifting my legs into the air and pushing me back onto the mattress. With my knees to my chest, Deacon grazes his lips down my length and past my taint, the flat of his tongue teasing my hole.

Deacon knows every button to push. Over the years, not only has he spent time and effort becoming familiar with a man’s body, but he spent time and effort becoming familiar withmybody. There isn’t any part of me he doesn’t know. He knows what sounds I make, and how to make sure I make them.

My back arches off the bed as he spears his tongue in and out of me, feasting on me. He’s trying to torture me, and it’s working.

The snick of a bottle opening adds to the anticipation, and despite being intimately familiar with the sound, my breath hitches and goosebumps pebble my skin when Deacon replaces his tongue with his cold, lube-covered fingers.

“Fuck,” I hiss as he pushes two slick digits inside me.

He effortlessly glides them in and out, scissoring his fingers, making me needier on every stroke. My body writhes when he grazes my prostate, my cock hard, aching, and leaking on my stomach.

“Driving you crazy never gets old.” With his fingers still deep inside me, he rises up off his knees and bends at the waist to meet my mouth. “You’re so beautiful laid out for me. Desperate for me.”

I taste myself on his tongue, and it only makes me hungrier and greedier for more. I devour his mouth as three of his fingers thrust in and out of my hole. He’s knuckle deep, stretching me, filling me, but it isn’t enough.

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