I kissed him again, and his lips parted beneath mine. And I murmured, “I want you too, Dmitri. God I want you.”
He pulled back and said, “Even though you know what I am? What I do?”
“I don’t believe those things about you. They can’t be true.”
And Dmitri said softly, his eyes never leaving mine, “What if they were true?”
“They’re not.” I sat up and shook my head. “You’re good, Dmitri. And nothing will convince me otherwise.”
He propped himself up and cocked his head to the side in that characteristic way of his, watching me closely. And he said, “I have no idea why you’d think that.”
“You asked me when we first met to judge you based only on our interactions, not on rumors. And that’s what I’ve done. That’s why I think – no, I know – that you’re a good person.”
A little smile curved the corner of his full lips. He picked up my hand and kissed the back of it, and then he licked it.
I laughed at that. “Does my honesty somehow make me more lickable?”
“No, the fact that you’re salty makes you more lickable,” he told me, his eyes alight with amusement.
“The fact that I’m – oh shit, I haven’t showered yet! Sorry, I must be disgusting. And I’ve probably gotten sand all over your sheets.”
“I could care less about the sand. But if you want to, you can come into the bathroom with me and I’ll clean you up.” He said that innocently enough, but the look in his eyes gave away his real intent.
I grinned broadly and swung off of him, and gave him a suggestive look over my shoulder. “I prefer getting dirty with you. But I’ll settle for getting clean, just this once.” And I turned and sauntered to the bathroom, giving him a nice, long look at my ass.
Dmitri let out a long, low moan as he fell back onto the bed. And in the next instant he launched himself up and came after me. He started the shower, which as I’d learned over the course of the weekend featured a surprising number of shower heads in seemingly random positions. The shower was so large that it would probably hold half a dozen men at a time (and just to torture myself, I thought, well, maybe it has held that many). I rolled my eyes at that misplaced jealousy and stepped under the warm water, and Dmitri stripped himself and joined me.
I wrapped my arms around him and held him for a long moment, and fought the urge to tell him I loved him. Even if my cop revelation hadn’t floored him, I was sure that would. This was supposed to be casual fun, nothing more – a ten month bachelor party before Dmitri was taken off the market. I needed to not screw that up by getting way too serious.
Dmitri washed me slowly, meticulously. He started by shampooing and rinsing my hair, then worked his way down. His hands moved sensuously over my body, caressing as much as cleaning. I’d never felt so cherished, so cared for.
When he reached my cock, he met my eyes and wrapped a soapy hand around my shaft. I gasped and shot an arm out to steady myself against the tiles. He ran his hand slowly down my length, his other soapy hand reaching underneath to ‘wash’ my balls. I actually whimpered as he massaged me thoroughly, then released me and turned me toward the running water.
My back was to him now, and he caressed my ass as I leaned forward with both hands against the wall and spread my feet apart. It occurred to me that I’d just positioned myself to be patted down, and I grinned at that role reversal.
A slick finger ran along my crack, then gently rubbed a little circle around my opening. Dmitri leaned forward so he was pressed against me and whispered in my ear, “Baby, have you ever had anything inside you before?”
“No.”
“Nothing? Not even a finger?”
I shook my head and looked over my shoulder at him, checking to see if he looked shocked or looked like he pitied me. But his expression was just kind, and he kissed my cheek before he whispered, “I’m going to take such good care of you, Jamie. We’re going to go really slowly.”
Dmitri slid his arm around my waist and ran his other hand over the soap, then went back to massaging the outside of my hole, after a while gently slipping just the tip of his finger in me. “Oh God Dmitri, yes,” I gasped, bending over farther and spreading my legs wider for him.
He fingered me gently, pushing in only an inch or two, then pausing to let me get used to it. I moaned and fought the urge to thrust backwards.