"Baz, make me feel good." I slide my nails over his scalp, feeling him shiver from my touch.
"I'll make it my mission in life." He hooks his arms under my knees, spreading me wide, anchoring me on the countertop. I have been hungry for a lot of things in my life. Money, food, love, affection, but never a man, and never like this. But Baz is different and has been since day one. He ensnared me like no other person on this Earth. Actually, that's not entirely true. Benny ensnared me, but in a completely different way.
Baz glides his magical tongue sensually along my slit, taking his time, tasting me, indulging in me, finding rapture for us both right between my legs. I widen my thighs, aching for more. Silently begging, pleading, wishing, wanting. Baz circles his tongue around my clit in that mythical way. Avoiding direct pressure, while still managing to wind me up tight. Driving me crazy with lust and desperate for release. God, this man. The slower he kisses me, the faster my heart beats.
"Baz," I draw out his name, naked, vulnerable, exposed, but above all, unafraid. "I'm getting close. I'm getting so fucking close." I nearly cry.
Baz swirls his tongue in lazy circles, lapping, licking, kissing, sucking my pounding inflamed flesh until I'm gasping.
"I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come so fucking hard." My voice rushes out in a stressed whisper. I squeeze my eyes shut and yank on his hair as my whole body locks up. It's sweet fucking agony, and I love every single second of it. Just before I hit my peak, Baz slips one finger inside me, curling it as he pumps his hand, hitting my spot like a panic button. I wasn't prepared for the intensity of the explosion, so I let out a wail that is so uncharacteristic I barely register it comes from me. But that's what Baz does. He yanks me right out of my comfort zone and makes no apologies for it. The pleasure is so extreme, a new solar system forms behind my eyes as my body shakes and shivers and rattles from the orgasmic onslaught.
I asked Baz to make me feel good, and he excelled beyond all expectations.
Soaking wet from Baz's mouth and my own arousal, I slump on the counter as he rises to his feet. Watching him vacantly, Baz wipes his lips with the back of his hand and eyes me like a vicious predator. I feel the starving look in every inch of my body. In every follicle, and every cell, and every molecule.
Baz attacks, crushing his mouth and chest and hips against mine. We fuse our lips together, pawing and pulling as raw animalistic need takes over. Baz slides his stone slab of a cock between my soaked folds before his head finally finds my entrance and he forces his way inside. I break the kiss to expel a tortured moan as he fills and stretches me beyond the point of no return.
Digging his hands into the underside of my hair, he grips it tight, moving his pelvis back and forth in a long, slow glide. Controlling my head, he tilts my face down so we can both watch as he enters and exit's my body, the two of us shaking from the physical restraint and overexertion. He feels so good, and this is so different from the adrenaline-induced, rough fuck that happened in this very place days ago. Which now feels like a lifetime ago.
"Baby," Baz breathes, tormented, as he thrusts powerfully, conjoining with me. This isn't just sex, this is a union , a merger, an alliance, a rebuilding of a burned bridge.
"Shit, I can't . . . I have to . . ." The pace of his hips pick up on their own accord. The weight of the ecstasy becoming too much to bear.
"Don't fight it, just let go. Come inside me," I encourage as we're engulfed in a fog of gluttonous rapture.
Baz's muscles are strung so tight they look like rubber bands ready to snap, veins cording in his neck and forearms. He's so fucking powerful, so fucking male, so fucking mine.
"Stevie." He clenches his jaw as he gets closer and closer. "Stevie, Stevie, Stevie." My name is a prayer on his lips. A talisman to worship. I've never been worshiped. Barely ever been cared about, but Baz makes me feel all the things I've been deprived of my entire life. And he hands those emotions out in spades.
He stills, his grip on me ironclad, his release furious, as mighty as the lion heart beating in his chest.
In the calm moments that follow his release, the fog dissipates. Three long, estranged months fade away, and time resets.
Baz's ragged breathing against my ear is one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard. He turns his head into me, his strands of runaway hair tickle my temple. He presses his lips against my cheek as he inhales deeply.
Then he speaks. "I killed him, Stevie."
I pause. Not exactly the pillow talk I was expecting.
"Killed who, Baz?"
He lifts his head so we are looking at each other through the corners of our eyes.