Page 136 of Hamartia

I raise an eyebrow at him. “I think you’d fall asleep with it in your mouth if you tried to suck my cock tonight, baby.”

He looks mildly offended for a minute, then concedes. It’s with a great effort he peels himself off me and stands up.

“You will order pizza while I shower?”

I nod and he wanders away from me towards where his case is just inside the living room door and wheels it out into the hall.

“With mushrooms!” He shouts.

“I got it. Don’t fall asleep in there.”

I sit on the couch staring into space a few moments.

I do this sometimes. Checking in with various parts of my body to make sure they’re tangible and physical and that I’m real, because sometimes it feels like I might be dreaming. That I get to have this life. With him. With my daughter. With my mom. With my music. With all the things that make me feel like the luckiest person on earth. People shouldn’t be this lucky. But I am. And I try to make sure everyone around me, everyone who helps make me feel it, knows just how grateful I am

After calling in the pizza order, I open a bottle of red and pour us both a glass and carry it into the bedroom. He’s out of the shower, white towel wrapped around his waist while he rummages in his suitcase. His lean body drips water onto the wooden floor where he’s crouched low. I eat up the sight I’d been starved of for eight days, mouth desperate to suck those droplets right off his skin. The thought is headier than the wine in my hand. He finds what he’s looking for—a small Gucci toiletries bag—and stands, only now seeing me standing there.

His own gaze dips over me appreciatively, eyes stalling at my crotch where I’m half-hard from just watching him.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He still blushes every fucking time. “So are you.”

“Lie on the bed,” I say softly.

He swallows, visibly, sets the shower bag on the bedside and does as he’s told.

“Lose the towel.”

He smirks before peeling it slowly away from his hips—too fucking slowly—and flattening it on the bed. His perfect cock is stiffening under my look, filling out nicely against his muscled thigh.

My mouth waters.

I take a deep sip of wine and let it sit on my tongue as I cross toward the bed. Setting the glasses down on the nightstand, I climb on and settle my head between his legs, pushing his thighs apart a little further to fit me. He’s perfectly still as I just stare at him here. When I lean in to lick the very tip of his cock, he squirms a little. Glancing up, I find him watching me intently.

“I love you,” I tell him.

“I love you too,” he whispers.

“You’re perfect.”

At this, he smiles. Mouth parting with want.

“Perfect and so fucking beautiful.” I breathe hotly over his cock, then kiss it.

“Raphael…” It’s a protest and a whine and a prayer all at once.

“Ask me to do it and I will. I’ll do anything for you, you know that. Give you anything you want; you just need to ask baby.”

I lick the tip again. He squirms again.

“Suck my cock,” he begs. “Please suck my cock.”

“On one condition.”

He half groans half laughs, bringing his hand to jerk his own dick, impatient. I bat it away.

“Fine,” he snaps but there’s no heat in it. “What is your condition?”