Page 55 of For You, Sir

His mouth fell open in a silent scream for a second, then he cried out. Hot cum spurted across his chest, slicking my hand with warm wetness.

His hole clenched and fluttered with the throbs of his orgasm, pulling me in, tipping me over. I plunged inside until my ecstasy broke loose and stilled my hips. Bliss crashed over me in waves as I belted my climax deep inside him. He clawed my back, crying my name. Pleasure reverberating against pleasure, like the intersection of rippling waves. I brought us both to shore safely, moving gently inside until he clasped my hips, too sensitive for more.

I gingerly withdrew and lay beside him, enjoying the sight of his sex-flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Pleasant weariness fell over me like a weighted blanket, and I sighed in satisfaction. “God, you’re incredible,” I breathed.

Jun pressed his lips together like he didn’t know how to respond, so I pulled him against my side and cradled his head on my chest.

“I love you, Jun,” I told him in the stillness.

He stretched an arm across my chest, hugging me back. “I love you, too, Einar.”

Chapter 20 (Jun)

Resting my head on Einar’s chest, I listened to his heartbeat calming, while mine raced on.

I love you.

I’d heard the words so seldom in my life, I thought of them as a luxury I could never afford. As a butler, I cared for opulent things, but that didn’t make them mine. It was wrong to covet a client’s Lexus, so how could I let myself desire Sir’slove?

But Einar said the words, and my heart had cried out,YES, I WANT THAT. Giddy and terrified all at once.

Was he my boyfriend now? Were we exclusive? It seemed like something a person should know intuitively.

When Einar’s breathing slowed to sleep, I slipped out of bed and into the master bathroom, closing the door behind me.

My legs were weak and shaky as I got into Einar’s shower. I had to steady myself with a hand against the wall, while hot water rained down. I kept replaying the scene in my mind: clasping at Sir’s back while he invaded me, filled me, held me close.

Scared to talk about it. Wanting to do it again.

The bathroom door swung open, and I startled, clutching a hand over my chest.

“Room for one more?” Einar asked, grinning. He opened the shower door and stepped inside.

“S-Sorry,” I said, leaning against the wall to get out of his way. “I can use the guest bath.”

“What are you talking about?” He laughed, closing the door behind him. “I want to be with you.” He skimmed his hands over my hips and down the front of my thighs.

He wants to be with me.

Me.

“Let me wash your hair,” he murmured against my skin.

Wasn’t that wrong? Shouldn’t I be the one washing and serving him? “It’s okay,” I said, offering a weak smile over my shoulder. “I can do it.”

He shook his head, or perhaps tossed the wet hair from his eyes. “Let me,” he insisted. “Makes me feel good to make you feel good.”

My face heated. Was he serious? “Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

He lathered my hair using far too much shampoo. His blunt fingertips grazed my scalp, and I was struck by a childhood memory: washing Inky, the family Labrador, and working white foam through her black fur. Whispering praise for what agood girlshe was.

Doting on Inky was the closest I came to caring for myself. Even at that tender age, I found it comforting to serve others with excellence and devotion. I longed to provide care and stability in a world where both were in short supply. If I kept pouring myself out for others, maybe one day my own cup would be filled.

Now I had Einar, someone whodidcare for me like that, and I felt vulnerable as a broken arm newly freed from its cast—pallid and oversensitive, precariously healed. My eyes burned, and I was glad I had my back to Einar so he couldn’t see.

He rinsed out my hair and washed me with a sudsy loofah. I timidly scrubbed him in return, exploring his body while I lathered him. I braced for a teasing remark about my roving hands, but Einar merely spread his feet to give me better access.

When we had rinsed and were toweling off together, my anxiety climbed again. What now? It was only 3:00 in the afternoon, and I was still on the clock. How could I go back to an ordinary day, after what we’d just experienced together?