Page 70 of The Forbidden Summer
The sound of his raspy voice, thick with steam and desire, makes the tip of my cock drip. I didn’t realize I would enjoy his instruction so much. In my fantasies, I just instinctively knew what to do, like a pro. But this is way better.
I can’t swallow all of him, but I’m determined to work up to it with time and practice. Père doesn’t seem to mind. His moans, his fingers tightening in my hair, the way he has to brace one hand against the wall for support—I can tell he’s enjoying this as much as I am. Maybe more so.
Eventually, he urges me to my feet. My eyes travel up his body as I straighten. A shiver dances through me, and it’s not from the water. It’s from the way he stands there, dripping and golden in the low light, like something out of a dream I never dared to believe could be real.
This man is all mine. He belongs to me.
He leans in, kisses the corner of my mouth, so soft it feels like a secret, and I nearly melt against him.
“You drive me crazy,” he rasps, voice rough with restraint. “You always have.”
I tilt my head back, offering him more, needing more, and he takes it. My back presses harder against the wall as he consumes me, and I let him, drinking in every ounce of heat, every ragged breath, every small, desperate sound that escapes both of us.
He’s a force of nature, my undoing, and my safe place all at once.
And I want to lose myself in him, forever.
“Let’s get out of here,” he suggests, fingers bruising my ass cheeks as he digs in.
Hell yes. Lets.
I reach around him to turn off the water, and Père steps out, dragging me along in his wake. He doesn’t even bother with a towel, just pushes me back onto the bed and settles between my legs. His hungry gaze roams up my damp body, devouring every inch of bare skin. He looks at me like I’m a treasure, like he can’t believe I’m real.
It’s the same way I look at him.
Père parts my thighs and dips his head, licking droplets of water from my skin. My legs shake from reflex as his tongue explores, reaching the juncture of my thighs.
Fuck me silly, he’s gonna suck me. Père’s going to wrap his lips around my swollen cockhead, and I pray to God I don’t immediately blow in his mouth.
The first lick of his velvet tongue against my balls makes me cry out.
The second lick has me pushing at his head as I simultaneously spread my legs wider, begging for more. It’s too much and not enough all at once.
Père chuckles and his eyes lock with mine as he takes another lick. He sucks one nut into his mouth and gently suckles before releasing it and doing the same to the other.
He rolls them in his mouth, lapping and sucking, bathing my balls in his saliva. It drips down my taint and tickles my hole. His scruff chafes my thighs and my sac, lighting me up like electric fire.
I fist the sheets and twist my head, falling headfirst over the edge of desire.
Père takes his time working his way toward my dick, drawing out the moment until I’m begging for his mouth. “Please, Cap. Suck me.”
Raising my head, I watch through hooded eyes as he swallows me slowly, inch by torturous inch. His fingers dig into my ass and he pulls me up into his mouth, swallowing another two inches. His head bobs up and down over my dick, slurping noisily, driving me out of my mind with need.
I almost cry when he relinquishes his hold on me and moves over my body. The sound of his knees popping makes me realize the sacrifice he was making for me, for my pleasure.
“Come up here,” I urge, patting the space beside me.
Père’s mouth finds mine immediately and we lose no time reconnecting, rolling back and forth until I end up on top. Straddling his hips, I sit astride him, my eager dick standing straight and proud, begging for attention.
“Reach in my top drawer,” Père rumbles in a gravelly voice.
Leaning back, I open his nightstand drawer and reach for the bottle of lube. I know for a fact that wasn’t there last time I opened that drawer.
Was he anticipating my return?
The thought makes me even more needy for him.
I hand him the bottle, not really knowing what to do with it. I’m just following Père’s lead. Although he hasn’t done this before either… not with a man.
