I look over my shoulder. “Do you like it?”
I already know the answer. His eyes are heated, and even as I watch him, he dumps my clothes onto the counter and lowers his hands gently to my sides. I push my arse out even more, knowing that he’s looking at the tattoo on my lower back. It’s just above my arse, and it’s a small watercolour-style image of a red rose.
“Artie,” he says again, tracing the skin around it gently, careful not to touch it under the clear plastic patch. I smile at his absorbed expression.
He looks up, and our gazes meet and hold. In his eyes is a flame of heat that I can feel echo in me. My cock stiffens.
“Did it hurt?” he asks hoarsely.
“A bit. Certainly, more than stubbing my toe,” I say in a spirit of honesty. “Was it worth it?”
He blinks. “Are you seriously asking me that question?” I nod. “Well, it’s the hottest and yet sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Sweet?” I say in disgust.
He smiles. “That’s you. My sweet and hot husband.”
“I prefer hot.”
“Good because you’re hotter than the surface of the sun, darling.”
I laugh and suck in a breath as he lowers himself to his knees behind me. “What are you doing?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at him.
“I’m examining this tattoo at close range. I like it.”
“It’s not as good as your paper roses, but it’s my rose for you.”
He kisses my back above the tattoo so gently it’s like a hummingbird skimming my skin. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I’m looking forward to seeing this without the wrapping. When can it come off?”
“When we get home.”
His eyes are heavy-lidded and full of unmistakable intent. “Take your cock out and turn around.”
My gulp is loud in the quiet room. “Here?” I clarify, and he nods. “But it’s a place where we work.”
“So? I’m on my lunch break. Turn around.”
I do as he asks, gasping at the feel of my hand on my dick, which is already hard and throbbing. Then I spin around so quickly that I nearly trip. He steadies me with gentle hands, and I groan loudly as he licks the sticky head of my cock.
He reaches into his suit jacket and produces his pocket square. “Put that in your mouth. We need to be able to come here again.”
I hold back a moan of delight and push it into my mouth.
He stares up at me. “Fucking hell. There’s never a minute when I don’t want you,” he whispers. I know he can see how much that thrills me because he offers me a wry smile and then takes my cock in his hand. His grip is perfect — firm and forceful,yet still gentle — and I arch into his hand, moaning low in my throat.
“Careful of your back,” he instructs, and I blink in confusion. “Don’t let it rub against the door.” I nod enthusiastically, and then my whole body arches towards him as he licks the tip of my cock and then sucks on it, his cheeks hollowing. My eyes slide shut at the pleasure that roars through me.
He pauses to tap my hip, and I force my eyes open. It takes effort.
“Watch me,” he orders, and I nod.
He immediately takes me down his throat in one smooth movement and then pauses. Our gazes holding, he swallows, and my hand flies out, hitting the counter with a dull thump before I grab hold and brace myself.
Jed pulls back, licking down the length and nuzzling into the skin at the root. “You smell so good,” he says in a guttural voice and licks over my balls.
I give a garbled cry, and he comes back up to the root, cupping my balls in his hand and sucking the soft skin. “I don’t have time to play. Carla and Russell will be back soon,” he warns, and I nod. If he touches me once more, I’ll come. I can already feel the orgasm buzzing in my spine. He traces the veins with his tongue, collecting the moisture dripping from the head before pulling me back into his mouth and sucking hard.
We watch each other as he sucks, bobbing his head up and down. Spittle leaks from the corners of his mouth, and his eyes are heavy-lidded and full of heat. He takes my hands and places them on his head in silent instruction, and I slide my fingers through the thick, silky strands before cupping his skull and pulling him down on my cock.