Zoe's breath caught. Her hands, bound above her head, curled into fists. The water rushed on in the bathroom, a wall of sound that made every other noise feel distant.
Ryan leaned forward, his weight settling on her ribs. His c**k hovered at her lips — not pressing in, just there, the tip brushing her mouth. "Open."
She opened. Her tongue touched him first — the soft underside, the salt of his skin. He didn't push in. He just let her mouth stay open, waiting, the tip resting against her bottom lip while the water filled the silence.
"Good," he said. "Hold that."
He didn't move. Neither did she. Her jaw ached from the stretch, her lips parted around nothing, her tongue resting against her bottom teeth. The taste of him sat on her tongue — not fresh, not clean, but her own salt from earl
