“I need to get cleaned up,” he said, and I stopped him with a hand to his bicep as he passed me for the bathroom. “No. You go with my scent on you,” I said, immovable, reaching down to catch what leaked from him, and slipping a drenched finger past his lips as his nostrils flared in renewed irritation toward me this time. “Swallow.” I removed my clean digit from the suction of his mouth in increments.
