Upon my return, Julian is sitting on the edge of the mattress, stroking himself. I haphazardly throw the bottle on the bed and kneel between his spread legs. He cards his fingers through my hair as I begin to trail kisses up the inside of his thigh. I bury my face in his groin, breathing him in, the whole day somehow narrowing down to this very moment. I live for him, and not in a he’s-the-only-reason-I’m-alive way but that everything I do is for him, to make him feel cherished and wanted and loved. Me on my knees, vowing to love and worship him. “This…” Despite my arousal, my voice is
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