by Ylana MIlls
"FUCK!"
"Oh my God Devon I'm sorry!" she said in a hurry, trying to regulate the water temperature as he writhed and cursed.
"If you wanted me to go soft," he panted, "you could have just said it!"
Indeed, nothing like freezing cold water running down one's back to ruin the mood… Granted: at least it had woken him up, and 'awake' was something he would need to be before he left that bathroom, anyway. But still… what a low blow. His resilient hard-on, the one he had been so proud of only a minute ago, had faded considerably.
"I'm sorry, baby…" she purred, pressing soft kisses on his lips. "I'm so, so sorry."
"Well," he said, letting out a sigh when the water finally got warmer. "That's one part of my body you won't have to deal with anymore…"
"If I know you…" she replied, her lips gliding along his wet collarbone, "… I am quite sure I will, sooner or later."
Her hands, in the meantime, had slid from his waist to his butt, and he felt her nails graze his skin as she spoke again.
"I just remembered that there is another first for you..."
He raised his eyebrows as he reached for the bottle of shampoo on a shelf behind her.
"Of course there is…" he whispered, feeling a delicious throbbing between his legs as her nails danced around his buttocks. "I'm going to wash your hair for the first time."
After saying that, he spread some of the shampoo on his hands and took them to her head.
"Oooh… very sexy," she replied, closing her eyes as he massaged her scalp. "But that was not what I had in mind…"
He swallowed when one of her hands slid further down until her fingertips rested on the space that separated his balls from his ass.
"If you're planning to show me how… it feels…" he muttered, feeling his body tingle as she kept stroking that very sensitive spot of his body. "I say, can I take a rain check?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I think I've had enough anal for today," he explained, his voice growing graver as pleasure coursed through his veins. "And I don't know if I'm ready to have it done… you know… on me."
She let out a chuckle, and her other hand moved from his butt to his fully erect cock.
"Still not what had in mind, but…" she purred into his ear, "…now that you said that you're willing to give it a try…"
"I don't think I said that..."
"You kind of did...
"Oh man…"
He let out a groan when she started kissing his neck, pushing him a step backwards so that she was under the water to rinse off her hair. He took that chance to kiss her, paying no mind to all the water the two of them ended up swallowing in the process, his mouth eager to suck her tongue in, to lick her lips, to taste her. And then, he felt she was pulling him closer, and that he had replaced her spot under the water. When she kneeled in front of him, shielded from the water now that the strong jets were massaging his back, his cock twitched in anticipation. There was something enticing about the fact she was about to take him in her mouth again, and that at the end of that marathon it would mean that he had been inside her in all possible ways… and more than once.
She held the base of his shaft with her fingers as her tongue covered all his length, in very soft, very slow strokes, her eyes locking up with his as her other hand cupped his balls. And then, he felt her tongue traveling to the spot her fingers had been stroking minutes ago, and a little explosion of stars blinded him after she prodded it insistently, her lips sliding on to make contact with his balls.
He thought of saying something to show how much he was enjoying her ministrations, but when she took one of his balls into her mouth, he gave up. His mouth was hanging open as her hand kept sliding up and down his shaft, the waves of heat sweeping his body making his pulse race.
"You like it?" she asked, and all he could do was to moan in response.
He made a mental note to give her a much more appreciative answer later on, when he recovered his ability to speak.
She repeated the same procedure with his other testis, rolling it inside her mouth and sucking it softly. His knees faltered for a second, but he was quick to grab the handle by his side, and in a sharp moment of clarity, he finally understood what first she was talking about.
"Y-You know," he stuttered, the desire to tease her trumping his momentary lack of eloquence. "Just because… I didn't know… the word teabagging… does not mean… I've never had it done…to me…"
She immediately stopped what she was doing, her hand freezing halfway up his cock as her eyes shot up to him. Seeing he had succeeded, he let out a smirk.
"But for the record…" he panted, licking his lips. "I have not."
He saw her roll her eyes as she gave his balls a final lick.
"Fucking tease," she hissed. "Gotta give it to you though. You're bold, considering my teeth were so close to your sack."
He gasped at her comeback, and his cock throbbed even harder under her grasp. Good grief, he was a pervert. What kind of man got that turned on by bantering with his girlfriend, even when she alluded to such a painful punishment?
Again, the babbling side of his mind was pushed aside by a much more primitive part of his brain, that simply made him jerk his hips forward, in silence, when she led his shaft into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it.
And then her lips were wrapped around his glans, sucking the drops of precum that had accumulated on his slit, kissing the area right behind the head. He wanted to close his eyes, and at the same time, he did not: the image of her head going up and down on him was way too pretty to pass up.
"Fuck, Eliza…"
He saw her smile at his vocalization, as if she had been waiting to hear her name at some point. He wondered if she was aware that this time around he was likely to last much longer, since his body was still recovering from his previous orgasms and he was not likely to reach his peak anytime soon, despite all pleasure her mouth was giving him.
Luckily for him, whether she was aware of that or not, the fact was that she seemed rather intent on covering every inch of skin in his groin with her relentless wet kisses, and he was not about to complain. Or to speak, for that matter.
His loud moaning and the movement of his hips, though, were doing a good job congratulating her for her performance. Earlier than he imagined, he felt a surge in his balls, as she again flicked her tongue behind the tip of his cock, covering the sensitive spot with soft, wet kisses.
"Eliza…" he moaned, grabbing a handful of her hair as his breathing got heavier. "I'm so close…"
She intensified her sucking, taking him further into her mouth, and when he felt his glans touch the back of her throat, he cried his release. His sight blurred as he watched her gulp down his semen, sucking on his cock until it stopped spurting. Only when Eliza winced did he realize he had just yanked her hair, after a particularly violent contraction of his muscles.
"Sorry," he panted, letting go of her hair with an apologetic look on his eyes as he withdrew his penis from her mouth. "I'm so sorry."
"That's fine…" she said, rising to her feet as she licked the remnants of his cum off her lips. "Sweet…" she whispered into his ear. "You really are a man of your word."
He laughed as he struggled to steady himself, his whole body shaking thanks to the aftershocks of his orgasm.
"Then the apples do work," he managed to say, still trying to catch his breath.
"They do."
"Good to know…"
He pressed his forehead against hers, and let out a sigh.
"What were you saying about taking care of my wounded head first?" he asked, tilting his head upwards with that infamous smug look in his eyes.
That man.
"You might have distracted me," she replied, shrugging at him as she reached for the bottle of shampoo. "Would you like to file a complaint?"
"I love you."
She nodded, grinning at him while she lathered his hair.
"That's what I thought."
He couldn't help but laugh at her witty responses, trying to remember if she had always been that sassy, or if his swagger was rubbing off on her.
Either way, he couldn't feel happier… even when the alarm clock started blaring from the bedroom, reminding him that it was now eight in the morning – and that he was supposed to be waking up to prepare for his job interview.
Chapter 11: Maid to Love You
Eliza Clark had just gotten into her pajamas and was now heading to the kitchen, feeling the muscles in her legs protest. She stretched her arms behind her back as she dragged herself to the fridge, and her eyes caught the clock on the wall: eight-fifteen. In the morning. What a time to get into her PJs, by the way.
But it was all for a good reason.
A smile lit up her face when she grabbed the bottle of milk, before the simple motion of bending her knees made her whole body ache. Note to self: sexathons were to be engaged in only after proper physical training. Otherwise, they meant being rendered useless the day after.
Next time, they would have to take it easy.
'Really easy,' her mind reinforced, as she shifted on the chair and certain parts of her body protested, again.
She let out a contented sigh: there was no way, in this life or the next, that she would complain, though. For the first time in her life, she had had the kind of sex she never thought she would get – the one that resulted in loud, toe-curling orgasms for both sides, with her special someone.
Her eyes darted around the kitchen as if she was seeing it for the first time in her life. And in a way, she was: her apartment looked different now, as if every single room in it looked half empty when it was only her, when he was not around.
Certainly, the hormones that were still flowing freely in her bloodstream after a night of multiple orgasms could be held accountable for at least part of the fuzzy feelings inside her chest and the desire to cuddle with the man who was getting dressed in the bedroom while she prepared breakfast for the two of them…
A feeble attempt at breakfast, that is. The occasion certainly asked for a full table: bacon, eggs, pancakes, fruit, juice… everything. Still, all she had managed to do was grab a bottle of milk and place it in the dining table next to two bowls and a box of cereal.
It was time they talked.
She let her gaze drop to the key she was holding, and in the back of her mind she feared it was too soon, and that he would push her away… And chances were that he would be doing the right thing, because it was too soon. Things had escalated far too quickly, and now she didn't know how to turn away, how to get the situation under control. Now there was this man in her life and she wanted him to stay. And it felt strange, for the first time, to think that now she would have to think things for two, to get two cups of coffee ready in the morning, and that they would have to negotiate what they would watch on TV and whose turn it was to clean the bathroom or to shop for groceries.
That is, if that was what he wanted at all. Because, maybe, it wasn't, no matter how well they got along and how great sex was.
Sex was really great.
Sex was really, really great.
Her tired body still found the energy to shudder when she remembered all the ways he had taken her the night before. Heavens almighty, how had they managed to keep it going for that long? She was sore in all the right places – a lesson to be learned. There could be too much of a good thing, after all.
She was about to pour some cereal into one of the bowls when Devon showed up in the room.
"So," he asked. "Think I can get promoted to butler now?"
He outstretched his arms and turned around so that she could inspect his attire, and her jaw dropped a little. Black dress shoes, black pants and vest, a shirt and a tie, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he held his jacket in one of his hands... She hurriedly searched for her glasses, so that she could see him with more clarity.
And when she did find them and pushed them up her nose, she had to let out a whistle.
'Promoted to butler?' she mentally remarked, as her gaze shifted from his arms to his carefully disheveled hair. 'More like promoted to husband, maybe?'
"OK," she finally said, her voice quiet and, at the same time, amused. "Who are you and what have you done to Devon Shaw?"
"I hear he suffered a collapse after a sexathon with a certain Ms. Eliza Clark..." he replied, as he pulled out a chair and sat across from her.
"Oh, did he?" she asked, a little smile curling her lips when he stared into her eyes. "Funny thing... Last time I checked, he seemed to be holding strong."
"On the outside, maybe... On the inside, he is nothing but a puddle of fuzziness and exhaustion," he said, taking the box of cereal from her hand after she had helped herself. "I also heard he was pleading for some good hours of sleep with his woman in her warm bed before he was forced into a suit to head to his job interview..."
"Oh... Now isn't that a tragedy?" she said, raising her eyebrows and trying not to laugh as he spoke. "Is it any comfort that his woman is also unhappy about having to go to bed all by herself?"
She saw him bite his tongue as he opened the bottle of milk, his eyes smiling at her words.
"You know what that means, right?"
"What?" he asked, before taking a spoon of cereal to his mouth.
"That you still owe me the infamous combination of sex, pillow talk, cuddling and breakfast in bed the next morning."
"I do, don't I?"
"You do."
"To think that I believed I had pretty much covered all bases when it came to sex..."
"You have not, butler," she snickered, and her fingers clutched the key she was hiding under the table. "But, luckily for you, I'm about to give you something that might help you keep up to date with your boyfriend duties."
"Oh, are you?" he asked, glancing at her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "Wait, I got something to give you as well."
"You first, then."
She watched as he stood up and walked back to the living room to search something inside his backpack.
"Here," he said, his eyes full of expectation as he handed her a small plastic bag. "Sorry for not getting any… fancy gift wrap."
"Gift wrap is half the fun of gifts, but I'll let this one slide," she said, cutting the piece of scotch tape that held the package together. "Even because I didn't wrap mine, either."
Truth was, whether she would find a diamond ring or a peanut butter cup inside it didn't even matter; her excitement was entirely due to the fact he had bothered to get her a gift. She would have something of his, something he had given her, something that had made him think of her, and that now, would make her think of him every time she looked at it.
At what point she had become such a romantic fool was beyond her understanding, and she honestly did not care. When she emptied the contents of the bag onto her open hand, her eyes were shining: he had gotten her a keychain.
Nothing too fancy, but the inscription on the small plate adorned by tiny lines of crystals made her laugh quietly.
'Devon Shaw: Maid to Love You'
"You're an idiot, you know that?" she said, chuckling as she avoided his eyes.
"Me?" he responded, with a smirk of his own. "I was not the one who hired a man with no qualifications to be your housekeeper."
The two of them burst into laughter, and she waited until the two of them had caught their breath to speak again.
"You like it?"
"Yeah," she whispered, before bursting into laughter again, this time on her own.
"What?"
Of all things he had expected her to do, laughing that hard at him was not one of them. He shifted on the chair, feeling his ears burn as he blushed. He let out a chuckle to hide his nervousness, although his eyes were probably doing him a disservice by darting from her hands to her face like there was no tomorrow.
"You really like that joke, huh."
"Oh, no, no, it’s not--," she said, her lip trembling slightly as she took
off her glasses to rub her eyes. "It's just that… I find it curious that you gave me a keychain when I got you… a key."
And then, all laughter disappeared from her face when she placed a key in front of his bowl of cereal. His eyes quickly caught up with hers, and he realized that in those few seconds, their roles had been reversed: it was her turn to wait for a response expectantly, her lips twitching as she tried to hide her anxiety.
"Eliza…" he whispered, when his gaze dropped to the silver key on the table. "What is this?"
"The apartment," she replied, pushing her glasses further up her nose. "I… I was thinking about having a roommate, and… and I think… I think you're a good… option."
"You want a roommate?" he asked, smiling at how fast she was blushing. "I thought I was your boyfriend, have I just been downgraded or what?"
"Y-Yeah, I… I… Well, I know, that was not… it's not, I-" she stuttered. "Oh, Devon, come on. Don't make me say it."
"Say what?"
He watched as she shifted on the chair, opening and closing her mouth as if trying to let out words that were stuck in her throat.
"That I… I…" she tilted her head to the side, looking at the table. "That I want you to stay," she said. "With me. Here."
She raised her eyes to his again, and he almost laughed at how worried she looked. What did she think he would say? Did she honestly think, at that point, that he would ever consider leaving?
"You sure?" he asked, his voice quiet as his fingers grazed the key.
"Don't you wanna?"
He saw her anguished face from moments ago light up with hope when he smiled.
"Yeah," he whispered. "But under one condition."
"What?"
"We'll split the bills. Like, every bill. Utilities, rent-"
"Rental runs at five grand a month," she interrupted.
He raised his eyebrows at the sum.
"So yeah, we might start with the utilities…" he said, scratching his nose as he wrinkled his forehead.
"That would be nice."
"That is, 'til I get a decent paycheck… then we can… we can split the rental too but honestly now," he frowned, "five grand, Eliza? Five grand a month?"