“I could never think you are weak.”
“I killed those guards…”
Owen said he would feel bad.
“And I bet if they would have seen you, they would have killed you in an instance.” I squeeze body wash on the loofah and glide it over his shoulders. “You are unlike anyone I’ve ever met. You still find a reason to cry for someone, even when they aren’t worth your tears, that’s a rare thing to see in a person.”
“It’s weakness.”
I move from behind him and stand in front of his body. “Not once are you weak. Do you know how strong it is to admit your feelings? To understand them? To not hide them away? You are so entuned with yourself and I’m jealous. It takes a special amount of strength to realize it’s okay to be sad about a life ending, especially when you know those people didn’t always lead a bad life.” I wash his chest, then his arms, then drop to my knees to get the lower half of his body.
Even through the turmoil, his cock manages to get hard. I know he doesn’t expect anything to happen, but I have this overwhelming urge to make him feel good. I want him to relax. I want him to feel a small amount of peace and I know I’m about to be bad at it but it’s the effort that counts, right?
I drag the loofah across his shaft and he hisses, then I drop down to his balls and clean those too. I reach up and grab the showerhead, unhooking it from the wall, and spray him off, letting the water pellet against his erection.
He tosses his head back, the tendons on the back of his neck pop out, and he rolls his hips. “That…that feels good. You don’t have to. I’m not expecting this kind of treatment. I was only kidding before, baby. I don’t deserve—”
“You deserve to feel good.” I lay my hand on his shoulder and run the showerhead over the sensitive shaft. He whimpers, lolling his head to the side when I hit a certain spot between his sack and the base of his cock.
“Oh, fuck,” he moans from the pressure plummeting his thick muscle and being to rock his hips back and forth, naturally seeking friction that air and water can’t give. He slips two fingers between my legs and finds my clit easily and begins to rub slow, agonizing circles over the most erotic part of me. “This is how it feels. It’s like the best fucking thing I’ve ever felt, but at the same time, it isn’t enough. I need more, but I don’t want the pressure to stop,” he admits.
I toss the showerhead to the side and fall to my knees which has his fingers out of reach from my center. I fist his cock and stroke, loving the weight of him in my hand. I lean forward and his eyes widen when he realizes what I’m doing and he grips the edge of the bench. His jaw drops open and my mouth isn’t even touching the tip yet.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers under his breath as I get closer. “You don’t have to feel like you owe me this or anything. I…I…Oh, god,” his eyes roll back and he finally shuts up when I suck the helmet into my mouth. I take my time, trying to figure out the best way to go about doing this so it feels the best for him. I know teeth would hurt, because, logic.
I keep my lips wrapped around my teeth, suck in a breath and hollow my cheeks as I sink down. My mouth is stretched as wide as I can and when he hits the back of my throat, there is still a few inches of him to take, but I can’t do it. I slide off, licking the crown with my tongue like I would a lollipop, then sink back down.
My one hand slide between his legs and fondles his balls while my other dives between my own to find my clit.
I need to come. I need him to come. And I need to taste him.
“Pop off, baby. If you don’t want… you need to…like now… now!” he warns me, but I keep a tight grip around his cock as the large muscle jerks and tightens as four ropes of thick cream puddle on my tongue. I swallow him with him hungry, a cravings I had no idea that needed to be quenched. When the last of his tremors stop, I’m still playing with my clit to bring myself to orgasm, but he picks me up, lays me on the bench, and thrust his still rock-solid cock inside me.
He takes me his sanctuary, a safe haven, a place where all feelings are welcome. I’m high, I’m chasing him, my dreams, and it’s then I know that heaven isn’t place, it isn’t a sexual appearance.
It’s a person.
And it’s Asher.
Epilogue
The Underground Kings Ten Years Later
Heaven
Sebastian and Gabby are walking around with their three year old son on the beach. Jaxon and Quinn have their soccer team in a single file line because it’s the only way to get them to behave when it comes to launch time. Holt and Holland are the oldest, right up front and center, rolling their eyes at the behavior of their siblings. Grayson and Finley are with their two kids, a girl and a boy, who are around the same age as Owen and Jolie’ daughter.
Jolie and Owen were only able to have the one child because the labor was so rough on Jolie, that it was touch and go for a moment. It was horrible to witness Owen holding his daughter while the depression weighed on his shoulders that his wife might die.
Again.
But she pulled through and they are happy as ever.
As for me and Heather, we are sitting on the beach and five of our kids are swimming in the ocean. That’s right. Five. Because I’m me, when she got pregnant, I really got her pregnant. We had quintuplets. When the doctor told us the news, I’m not afraid to admit that I passed the fuck out. I expected one, maybe two if we were lucky, but five?
And the little brat took a picture of me, laid out on the hospital floor with her thumb sticking straight in the hair while he doctor had the wand on her stomach, laughing at my expense.
How else would a man react? Five kids, come on, between the two of us we only have four arms and two breasts that actually filled with milk. Do you know how many times those little spawns tried to gnaw on me?