I shuddered, transfixed by the sight.
Dimitri let his thumb slip out of my mouth and slid his hand up again, until he had his fingers clenched in my hair.
I slid down the wall, his hand moving with me, guiding me, until I folded to my knees in front of him, his cock inches from my face.
Leaning in close enough to kiss it took the smallest motion. My lips brushed over his thick, swollen cockhead, our mingled scents rising up and making my head spin. I flicked out my tongue and tasted myself on his velvety skin.
I chased those traces of my own come, sliding my lips down his shaft, licking it up. Teasing, tasting, scenting him, eyes drooping half-shut as I fell into a fugue, lulled by the drumming of the shower, grounded by the hand in my hair keeping my head steady.
It seemed like he let me go on like that forever, up one side of his cock and down the other, pausing in between to lap at the head or nuzzle his heavy balls.
But finally his patience ran out, and he tugged on my hair, tipping my head back.
My mouth opened obediently to that silent command, and he pushed his cock in, thrusting shallowly, gently, not trying to go too deep. It wasn’t anything like the first time I’d sucked his cock. He didn’t demand anything, didn’t even seem like he was trying to get off. Dimitri didn’t need to demand anything, because I was his for the taking. Passive, ready and waiting for whatever he chose to do to me. He could use me slowly if that’s what he wanted, tease himself with my lips and tongue. Or he could fuck my throat, choke me on his cock, and I’d still take it.
But he wanted this, and so I held my mouth open and savored every motion of his thick erection, filling my mouth and withdrawing, hot and slick.
With a low, incoherent sound, Dimitri pulled back, letting his cock rest on my lower lip, and wrapped his other hand around the shaft.
He started to stroke it, a steady rhythm clearly designed to bring himself off, only the head pushing in and out of my mouth.
At last his hand sped up, and his stomach muscles clenched, abs going rigid.
The first spurt filled my mouth, trickling down into my throat, but I couldn’t swallow, not yet, because he hadn’t pulled out of me. More spilled out of the corners of my mouth, slicking my chin and throat. Another spasm, and Dimitri let out a bitten-off groan, pulling his cock back so that he painted my cheeks and mouth, the bitter, salty scent and flavor of him overwhelming my senses.
He rubbed his cockhead over my lips, back and forth, across my cheek, back into my mouth for a moment to coat my tongue with his come. I dared to look up at him through my lashes, and his face tightened, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Those eyes hadn’t lost any of their intensity, fixed on my face all covered in his come, my body still folded up on my knees at his feet with his hand holding my head in place, throat bared.
We stayed there for an endless moment, gazing into each other’s eyes. I didn’t know what he saw in mine. Whatever it was, I couldn’t hide it—so it didn’t really matter.
Not much seemed to matter, right then.
And his expression was completely inscrutable. I had no idea what he was thinking.
That didn’t matter much either. I’d submitted to my mate, my alpha. Whatever he was thinking, he had to be satisfied with me. And that was enough.
At last he let me go, slowly and carefully so that my head didn’t fall back against the shower wall. It drooped down, all my muscles going limp at once. Dimitri crouched down and got his arms around me, lifting me up, cradling me against his chest.
When he shifted me so that my head leaned on his shoulder, I left my eyes closed, not moving as he washed my face and rinsed between my legs. My hole felt so open and stretched, swollen and almost sore. It’d heal within half an hour or so. I knew I’d miss the sensation when it did.
At least I could still taste him when I licked my puffy lips.
“Jesus fuck, Brook,” Dimitri muttered.
I opened my eyes a crack in time to see him staring at my mouth, eyes all wide and dark.
“Mmm,” I managed.
“Fuck.” He shook his head like he wanted to clear it, hair spattering water across my face. “Fuck, sorry. God. Do you want dinner?”
Dinner. Yeah, I really, really did, and at the thought my stomach let out a ferociously loud growl.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Dimitri bundled me against his chest again and shut the shower off. “As soon as I get you resting, I’ll go cook. I should’ve cooked already. I don’t know what I was…” He trailed off, not bothering to finish.
After he’d given us both a quick rub-down with a towel, he half-carried, half-dragged me into my bedroom, deposited me on the bed, tossed the sheet over me, and went out the door, presumably to make dinner.
Lying there in the quiet, replaying everything in my head…well, for one thing, my cock started filling again, and that annoyed me, because Dimitri was downstairs and unable to do anything about it. But for another—that had been so out of character for me. Hadn’t it? All those thoughts about Dimitri being my alpha. About doing what he wanted me to do.
Had the mate bond changed me so much?
