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He should be answering, telling her his schedule, but he couldn’t think as her spare hand slid down his spine, fingers separating his buttocks.

He only realised he was holding his breath when his chest began to pound and grow heavy, and it all came out in a rush when her fingertip grazed his arsehole.

“Flick…”

“Ssh…” she replied. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

He couldn’t reply as he felt her trace circles around the tight band of muscles as if asking a question. All he could do was shake his head violently. “Please…”

He knew other guys could be hung up about this, but it was one of his greatest pleasures.

He loved every damn thing they did in the bedroom, with the other pack members or just him and Flick, but the others didn’t seem to understand the bliss getting fingered could bring.

She was very gentle, her fingers tiny as they pressed in, just teasing him open at this point, his hand dropping to his cock.

“Don’t touch it,” she snapped, his eyes flicking open, meeting her eyes through his pants. She smiled and then winked at him. “Leave it with me.”

His eyes closed gratefully, unable to cope with anything more.

The stream of the water, the feel of her around him, and…

He went up on tiptoes as she pushed her finger in and had to force himself to relax, let the prickly pleasure of being pierced wash over him as she made tentative little movements, getting a feel for him.

He groaned, a wild abandoned thing now. He couldn’t hold anything back.

She broke him open, taking away every damn barrier until she got there.

She was in him, deeper now, and then that finger curled down.

He panted through the anticipation, imagining what it would feel like when she pressed down on his prostate, but it paled in comparison to what it was actually like.

Feeling like that first bloom, right before you come, it started inside him and then leached out.

His bones became rubber, and he was vaguely aware of the incoherent noises he was making, filling the room, but he just couldn’t stop.

His legs spread wider, wanting more, needing more, as well as the support of a stronger stance.

His cock stabbed at the air on automatic, in time with each of her strokes, until she pulled free of him all too soon.

His groan was almost a heartfelt wail. He missed the feel of her, but she moved around, pulling him closer to the step before sitting down on it. And then it all came back, her finger slid home again and then her tongue flicked out.

“Flick!”

Claws appeared on the tips of his fingers, scratching at the glass as those twin pleasures washed over him.

He wanted to thrust forward into her hot little mouth, but what was left of his control stopped him.

Instead, he submitted to her slow, careful inspection of his throbbing length with her tongue, gasping when the flat stroked the sensitive underside.

“Flick… Flick…” He was begging now, unable to get past her name, putting everything into his ragged tone.

He needed her, needed her mouth on him, her hands.

Needed to detach her from his body, lick her until she was wet and squirming, and then bury himself in her until the aching stopped.

His body, completely on board with the idea, started to pull away when her hands tightened.

Her finger inside his arse pressed down, the ones around his shaft stopping him from going anywhere, and then slowly, with a whole lot of flickering tongue, she swallowed him down.

Right then, he didn’t care if he never made it to part of Flick’s pack.

His head was thrown back and his eyes went wide and unstaring as he felt her suck him off.

If he had to go back to his pitiful little room in the single men’s accommodation, he’d always have this.

The feel of her pleasing him was only one part of it, even as he was completely lost in the maelstrom of bliss she wrought.

But what came with it was an acceptance, an enthusiastic willingness to cater to his apparently deviant tastes, doing to him everything he’d ever wanted—until his mind raced to find new scenarios—without even being asked.

He sobbed as he felt it, the tightening in his balls, the tingling in his spine.

“Flick… Gonna come.”

He thought she might pull away or move things on, but instead, she just redoubled her efforts, stroking and sucking him until the most beautifully selfish of pleasures rolled through him.

He felt every damn pulse of his cum as it shot down her throat, paroxysms of the purest ecstasy washing through him at such an intensity, every hair on his body stood on end.

For a few precious seconds, he just hung there in suspended animation, the shower, the whistle of Flick’s breath in through her nose, along with his own rasping gasps and the most tremendous feeling of wellbeing.

“Feel good?” she asked finally, after pulling away, detaching from him slowly, but he still wanted to beg her to stay. She moved over to the shower, giving her hands a wash.

How did he answer? She had broken him in two, and he was just lying there, bleeding, loving her all the more for it.

Loving.

He grabbed her in his arms and held her close, unable to bear even the tiniest of gaps.

She was his Flick, and he loved her. He’d been trying to pretend, to hold it back, but it all came rushing in when his defences were down.

She was beautiful and strong, sweet and loving, and he needed her so much.

Every stricture his mother and all the matriarchs had told him said he needed to keep that to himself, but it throbbed in his heart, wanting, needing to come out.

“Hey,” she said. “It’s OK. You’ve been looking after us so much lately. I wanted to do the same for you.”

Flick wouldn’t have meant to chill him through, he knew that, yet the lightning bolt of cold hard pain slashed through him just the same.

He loosened his hold on her, conscious now of the gulf that came with that separation.

He’d thought… He’d wanted… He had to shut his thought process down viciously.

He couldn’t let himself go there, he just couldn’t.

He wrenched the separate parts of himself back together, lashing them with ropes of pure will and smiled at her.

“Thank you,” he said, trying to convey everything he was thinking into those two words. “That was…amazing.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Now, I’ve gotta scramble if I’m to get to work on time. You better as well.”

And just like that, he was back on the treadmill, running, running, running. He placed a kiss on her forehead, wanting to do so much more, and slipped from the shower cubicle.