“Let’s shower,” Zeke said to me as we were heading up the stairs. “Cowboy, you can come upstairs and watch.”
Sweat prickled my skin at the thought of warm water on my hypersensitive ass, but I wasn’t about to deny him whatever he needed.
I thought for sure he would send me to bed despite the fact my dick was still rock hard from that scene. Zeke knew I preferred subspace to an orgasm, so he hadn’t demanded I come and he hadn’t yet taken his pleasure from me, either. The thought of wearing that chastity device to sleep in while my dick was so fucking hard it hurt made my head swim.
Without waiting for Brax to crawl up the stairs, I went into the bathroom and started the shower while Zeke disappeared into his closet. I stripped off my clothes, the denim scraping over the tortured nerve endings causing the marks to burn hotter than before.
When Zeke returned, he motioned for me to get in the shower as he followed.
I did like this bathroom. It was designed with a man his size in mind. The lack of walls left the space open. The numerous shower heads allowed him to move about freely while getting clean.
“Put your hands on the tile. Ass facing me,” he stated roughly. “I want to admire my work.”
Without hesitation, I did as instructed, bending at the waist and putting my palms flat on the tile. My cock thickened as I put myself on display for this man. I wanted him to move up behind me, to take me in that wild way that kept me hanging precariously close to an orgasm strong enough to blow my head off my shoulders. Knowing Brax was there, watching, only made it hotter. If Zeke wasn’t prepared to fuck me, I hoped he would touch me, run his hands over my skin. It would intensify the fire in my skin, but I didn’t care.
I could hear the water being displaced as Zeke showered. I didn’t move, my knees locked, my back straight. I was rewarded a short time later when Zeke’s soapy hands stroked over my back.
“You did good tonight, pretty boy.” His tone was soft, his words laced with what sounded like wonder.
“Thank you, Zeke.”
He washed me slowly, as though he had all the time in the world. My shoulders, my neck, my back. He disappeared only to return with more soap.
My breathing increased as I silently urged him to go lower, to run those callused palms over my abraded skin. The friction alone would make me see stars, but I needed that. In that moment, I needed him. Something to solidify the experience, to increase the connection I felt to him.
When his palms finally inched lower, down my spine, I held my breath. He paused momentarily at the lowest part of my back and I squeezed my eyes closed. Hoping for more while preparing myself for the blistering heat to bloom on my skin.
“Oh, fuck,” I cried out through clenched teeth when his hands finally shifted. “Holy shit.”
“It hurts.” It wasn’t a question.
“So fucking good,” I admitted.
His soapy hands wandered over my ass, down the backs of my legs. I groaned and hissed, letting the blessed warmth radiate throughout me. It was enough to make me light-headed, but I welcomed the sensation, relishing the fire blazing along my nerve endings.
I wanted him to fuck me, to fill my ass, to use me in the way only he could. I needed his brutal touch, the overwhelming way he controlled both my pleasure and his. He was driving me insane.
But Zeke didn’t fuck me. His hands continued to wander. Down my legs, my ankles, around to my calves. He washed me thoroughly, working his way back up, fisting my cock a few times but not offering relief.
“Stand up.”
When I did, his chest pressed against my back, his thighs brushing mine, his groin smashed against my ass. He kept me steady on my feet with his strength and security. I hissed again as the hair on his legs had fire licking every nerve ending. Big arms wrapped around me as he washed my chest and my stomach. His hips rocked against me, his cock trapped between our bodies.
“Zeke … oh, fuck … I need more.”
“I know you do,” he growled, his mouth close to my ear. “You need to feel my cock filling you.”
“Yes.” So fucking badly.
His big hand curled around my throat as he held me against him. He wasn’t cutting off my air, but there was no denying who was in charge here.
Zeke walked us backward until we were both under the spray, water cascading over me, rinsing the soap from my body. His mouth moved to my shoulder and I hissed when he nipped me with his teeth. He didn’t stop, those stinging bites making my dick throb as he worked his way up my neck.
