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“I’m so sorry.”

“With everything that’s happened to you lately, at the hands of my family no less, I would never expect you to feel sorry for me.”

“No, but I do anyway.” I shuffled a little closer to him.

“It’s more than I deserve.”

I traced my fingers along his forearm, feeling goose flesh break out underneath them. I decided to let my hand trail all the way up his bicep, to his shoulder, to his chest… then trail down along his stomach.

He grabbed my hand just as it reached the lip of his briefs. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice firm.

“I…” I paused. Had I misread the situation? “You made me relax before. I wanted to do the same for you.”

Another pause lingered. “Not without asking permission, first,” he said. “Is that understood?”

Woah.

Excited heat flushed through me. “I’m… sorry,” I said, semi-breathless.

“Now, tell me what you want.”

I licked my lips, my heart racing again. I leaned closer to him, so close our lips were almost touching. “You made me come with your mouth,” I said, “I want to make you come with mine.”

“That’s not how you ask for permission,” he said.

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

“Please, Lucien…” I paused. “Will you let me wrap my mouth around your dick?”

Even in the dark, I saw his lip curl into a slight grin. “Better.” He released my hand.

Entirely breathless, now, I let my hand slide even lower, until my fingers brushed against the shaft of his cock. He was already hard, the length of him filling one entire side of his briefs. I felt his chest rise as my fingers gently glid along his shaft, all the way to the wet patch at his tip, then all the way back down to the base, then up again.

“Don’t tease,” he warned.

“You teased me.”

“Because I can. You don’t have permission.”

“I think I understand,” I whispered, and I readjusted my positioning, sliding down along the side of his body, tossing the bedcovers off the bed as I went and finding a comfortable spot between his legs.

I was incredibly wet, and already aching for him to give me a second climax, but this wasn’t about just me anymore—it was about him, too.

Carefully I slipped my fingers into his waistband and tugged, slowly, until I felt his cock spring out of them. I kept pulling, making sure to free all of him, but keeping his underwear on him at the same time.

I slowly ran my fingertips along his thighs, enjoying the feel of his skin as it reacted to my touch, and looking up at him at the moment that I took him in my hand. He was hard, and warm, and thick in my palm, and he shuddered as I ran my closed fist along his length.

“Do you like that?” I asked.

“I do,” he said.

I very carefully took his warm balls in my other hand and carefully handled them. “And this?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “Be a good girl… and put it in your mouth.”