He turns away from me, yielding to the moment. He strips off his shirt first, then his pants and underwear.

When he turns back around, my breath catches in my throat.

He’s built beautifully. Intimidatingly so.

I lean in, using the light and pretending I’m just being practical. “When was the last time you shaved?”

I should have been focused on the irritation he wanted me to examine.

Instead, my attention keeps drifting elsewhere.

Every glance only makes looking away harder.

I want him. All of him. I want to feel his cock in my mouth. I want to ride him into oblivion.

“Just last week,” he murmurs, his voice...