Chapter 76 Your Turn
June
I don’t answer his question.
We hold each other’s gaze, the shower clattering, our breath is the only sound in the bathroom. His fingers clamp around my wrists, dragging them down hard until I feel him.
My lips part slowly, chest heaving.
"Here," he rasps, the sound rough, almost… pleading.
My breath shatters. I nod, small, helpless, and my fingers curl at the edge of his towel. With a shaky tug, it falls away.
"Oh… God."
My jaw slack. I nearly stumble forward, my body colliding with his, because all I can see is his cock. Thicker and heavier, bigger than this morning, bigger than my memories dared to exaggerate. Each time I see it, it’s as if it grows — stretching the limits of what I thought a man could carry. A wild thought claws through me: how can I even fit him inside me?
My hand twitches, frozen halfway, hot breath stalling in my throat.
'Why are you wasting time?" he grunts, his grip on my hand tightening, dragging a rough sound from deep in his chest.
"I—I’m sorry," I whisper, words trembling.
And then I move. My palm slides along his length, slow, cautious, reverent, stroking him. Watching the twitch of his muscles, the raw hunger in his face.
"Ffu–ck–"
His sound startles me.
A low, guttural moan — dragged from his chest the second my hand wraps tighter around him. His head tips back against the wall, his eyes slammed shut, and his hands finally leave mine, bracing hard against the tile. His fingers splayed hard, muscles straining.
I freeze, then smile.
He likes this.
Fire ignites through me, and I grip him firmer, sliding my hand up, then down, achingly slow. His moan deepens, broken by a sharp inhale.
God, he’s beautiful like this. Raw, and uncontrolled, and for once, it feels like I’m the one holding power.
I drag my thumb over the head, teasing the slick there, and his jaw jerks, another grunt tearing out of him. I keep going, unhurried, savoring each sound that spills out. His body, his voice, his need — all of it thrumming in my hand.
"You’re… killing me," he growls, voice shredded, his hips twitching forward.
I giggle breathlessly, stroking him again, slower this time, just to hear him curse.
"Go faster," he bites out, the demand cracking through the air. His head slams lightly back against the wall, breath ragged. "Don’t… don’t fucking tease me."
I swallow, tightening my grip, and nod. My strokes quicken, smoother now, working him harder. His moans deepen, rougher, and his thighs tense as I lose myself in the rhythm.
My hand slides slick over him, schlk, schlk, schlk, the flirty sound in the shower mist. His moans roughen into growls, deep and jagged, and I swear I can feel every tremor of his cock pulsing under my palm.
God, I’m doing this. I’m making him lose control.
"Faster," he grunts, and I obey instantly, my strokes quickening. The rhythm sharpens, wet and needy. Schlk, schlk, schlk! sc—hlk!
His hips thrust into my grip, his head tipped back against the wall, jaw hard, veins standing out on his throat. The sight alone makes my thighs press together.
Then—sudden, and fiercely his hand clamps mine, jerking it harder, forcing the pace until my arm burns. I whimper, but his guttural moan swallows it.
And then—just as fast—he rips my hand away. My cry catches in my throat.
The towel drops finally with a thud on the tiles, and he fists my hair, dragging my head back. His cock, flushed and angry, presses against my lips, hot and unyielding.
"That’s enough," he rasps, voice shredded with need. His breath shudders across my face. "You think I’ll let you stop at this?"
The head of him nudges my mouth. My lips part helplessly, a shaky moan escaping as my knees threaten to buckle.
His cock presses harder against my lips, insistent, demanding. I shiver, water sliding down my face, mingling with the heat of him.
I open wider, and he groans, low and guttural, as the swollen head slides onto my tongue.
Slrk—glk—slrk.
The noises are filthy, bouncing off the marble tiles, echoing with every slick pull of my mouth. My lips stretch, my jaw aches, but his hand stays tangled in my wet hair, guiding me down.
"Deeper," he rasps, his hips jerking. My throat burns as he pushes past my limit, and I gag, choking on his thickness.
Ghlkkk—slrk—glck.
My eyes blur with tears, but his moan—raw and broken—makes me keep going. His other hand slams against the wall behind me, veins straining on his forearm, water dripping down his clenched muscles.
He groans again, a curse tumbling out, guttural and sharp. "Fuck—June."
My name. He called my name from his mouth.
Something hot spirals in my chest at the sound, making me take him deeper, sucking harder. His cock throbs on my tongue, and the taste of him floods my mouth, salty and masculine.
The rhythm is savage now—his hips thrusting, my head bobbing, the bathroom filled with the raw chorus of slrk, glck, ghlkkk.
I’m dizzy, drunk on him, every breath stolen between thrusts.
When I claw at his thigh for air, he yanks me back just enough for my lips to slip at the tip, connected by a string of spit. His eyes, molten and gray, burn down at me as he pants like a beast cornered.
"Don’t stop," he growls, shoving me back down. "Not until I say."
Just when I think he’s about to lose it, his cock twitching hot and heavy against my tongue, his grip tightens in my hair—then suddenly yanks me off.
Pop!
My lips part in shock, spit dripping down my chin, the taste of him still coating my mouth.
He’s panting hard, chest rising like he’s been dragged through fire, jaw tight, eyes dark and storming. His cock stands rigid, veins pulsing, so close to exploding, and yet—he stops.
"Your turn," he grunts, voice raw, gravel scraping down my spine.
My thighs squeeze together involuntarily, heat flooding lower.
I blink up at him, dazed, spit glistening on my chin, dripping onto my soaked dress. My heart slams in my chest.
"M–my turn?" I whisper, not trusting my voice.
His lips curl into something between a snarl and a smirk. He wipes my chin with his thumb, then presses that same wet thumb down against my bottom lip, forcing it open again before dragging it away.
"Yes," he growls, eyes fixed on me like prey. "On the wall. Now."