Morgan ran his fingers over the length to the end, dipping the tip of his index finger into the folds of his foreskin.
Saliva filled my mouth and I had to swallow to keep from choking on it.
“Think of anything yet?” Morgan stroked his cock.
“What was the question?”
Morgan stopped and I’m pretty sure I whimpered.
“C’mon, before we flood this fancy bathroom.”
The tub should have overflow drains to keep something like that from happening, but at that moment, I doubted I would have remembered my own name.
Morgan took one of the bottles from the counter and carried it over to the tub. “This way, Mr. Kessler-Kade.” He did a little twirl and held up the bottle of what I assumed was lubricant.
Not surprising, considering where my head was at the moment.
I followed.
He unscrewed the cap on the container, then dumped the contents into the tub. Foam boiled up through the churning water.
Nope, definitely not lubricant. “Was that bubble bath?”
“Shampoo.” Morgan climbed in.
“I’m not so sure that was a good idea.” The mountain of suds inched up the sides of the tub. Morgan flipped off the water, but the hills and valleys of iridescent orbs continued to climb higher.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s going to be hard to get it to drain out.”
Morgan sat on the edge of the tub. “And that’s a problem?” He parted his knees, showing off his flushed cock standing at half-mast.
“Nope.” I climbed into the tub, going to my knees in front of him before I could even register the sting of hot water and crackling foam.
It only takes a little training—first verbal cues, then visual.
I rolled a look up at Morgan.
He patted me on the head. “See, I told you you trained up nicely.”
“Shut up.”
“Well, you did.”
“Do you want me to suck your dick or not?”
He leaned back on his elbows.
I slid my hands up his thighs to his ribs, then his chest. He pushed his fingers into my bangs, and I dropped my head, taking the tip of his cock into my mouth. A gentle tug had me taking him to the back of my throat.
Morgan sighed and the small tics that seemed a constant even when he was still faded until they might have never existed. The idea that what I did brought him to calm made every fault I had irrelevant.
I swallowed around him, pulled to the tip and used my tongue to probe his slit. Morgan propped a knee on my shoulder, and I rubbed two fingers over his opening. But without anything to slick him up, I was reluctant to try and penetrate him. I settled on fondling his balls while I bobbed my head.
Morgan’s breaths stuttered.
I dragged my lips to the tip, sucking hard before swallowing him down.
“Grant…” Morgan rocked. “Gonna come…”
There’d been a time he would have fought it. A time when surrendering his release to me was a battle he could win, unlike the one he fought against his body. One fueled by a world of too much noise, movement, and of course, light.
No, he didn’t have a choice but to face the world the only way he knew how. But he did choose to trust me enough to let go. To be vulnerable. To believe I wouldn’t fail him.
God, I hoped I never did.
Morgan lifted his hips and pulled my hair, holding me in place while he thrust into my throat, cutting off my air until my eyes watered and spit-soaked my chin. With a deep moan, he froze, cock spasming against my tongue, releasing ropes of cum. The warm liquid backed up as I swallowed, tickling my soft pallet.
Morgan let me go and pulled away far enough to free my throat. I sucked in a breath and coughed it back out.
He laughed a little.
My eyes continued to water, and he wiped away the tears. I kept sucking him until he shivered with every touch of my tongue over the head of his cock. Until his expression flinched with pain as much as pleasure.
I let him go and kissed his thighs, his stomach, his chest. I breathed in his scent and reveled in the feel of him against me—the feel of everything right in my world.
“Stand up.” Morgan pulled on my arm, and I did as he asked. The edge of the tub was just high enough to put his chin level with my cock. All he had to do was open his mouth.
He licked the head then dragged his teeth over the glans, sending a sharp bite right through my core. I jumped and he gripped the base of my dick. Either to keep me still or to have more control, I didn’t really care.
Morgan parted his lips, flicked out his tongue, then took me to the back of his throat. Wet silk tied me in ropes of pleasure, and I shuddered so hard my teeth chattered.
I sucked dick, and I was good at it, but what Morgan did was nothing short of magic.
His bangs parted enough for me to catch a glimpse of his eyes. Those perfect pink lips tightened around my cock and he hollowed out his cheeks.
“Morgan…” I cupped the back of his head. He moved to the end and let me go. “Damn it…”
“Can’t have you going off just yet.” He slapped a wet kiss over the fat head.
“Yes, we can. Trust me. You’ll hear no complaints.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” He ducked his head and sucked one of my balls into his mouth. I made some sort of sound. It might have formed a word if he hadn’t started jacking my dick. Morgan moved to the other ball: a pinch of pain flared.
“Fucking hell, did you just bite me?”
He lapped at the sting.
I groaned.
Morgan dragged his bottom teeth to the base of my cock. There he latched on, nursing the patch of skin until it ached.
He quickened his strokes, and I fought not to thrust into his grip. If I moved, I’d fall, and if I fell, I’d likely knock myself out and wind up drowning in a damn jacuzzi tub full of bubble bath.
Correction—shampoo.
Not the worst way to go, I guess.
Morgan drew a line with his tongue to the tip of my cock and ground the flat part of his tongue against my slit. The need to come grew barbs, riding in on a euphoric electric wave.
He twisted his wrist, keeping his movements short and near the upper half of my dick.
The rush of bliss crested, and I gasped.
Ropes of cum painted Morgan’s nose, lips, chin, the rest he caught on his tongue. Morgan held my gaze while making a show of scraping his fingers across the mess I’d made and sucking them clean. That pink tongue, wet, glistening, his perfect mouth, masculine but not hard.
I dropped down, pushing him back, sealing our lips together. He moaned and I drank it away.
Morgan broke the kiss, and I panted against his lips. Spent, muscles aching, it was always like that with Morgan. I don’t know how he did it. How he made each time with him a unique experience that reminded me just how lucky I was.
Chapter Eight
Room service had left our food outside in the hall. And I knew that because Dog sat in front of the door trying to stare a hole through it.
I tied the belt of the complimentary hotel robe I’d snagged from a hook in the bathroom. The thick satin melted to my skin, flashing every groove and line when I walked.
Which is great alone in a room with a husband you couldn’t keep your hands off of. Not so great when you had to inch into the hall where other guests could see you.