One hand stayed at Marlow’s waistband, but the other reached to coil around a lock of his silver hair. “With a hint of lavender like spun silk. But I guess you need to be shown how beautiful you are.”
Marlow’s eyes fluttered as Remy’s other hand slid inside the opening of his jeans and right beneath the elastic of his underwear to find skin. Words failed him as Remy’s fingers traced down his length, which was very different from touching himself.
“You like that?” Remy asked—and seriously, his voice should be illegal.
“Uh huh,” Marlow answered in a slightly higher pitch. He kept his eyes closed so he could focus on the feel of Remy’s fingers, the gentle touch and then firm grip that followed.
Marlow whimpered.
“We’ll find all the things you like.”
“Yeah. It’s not like I never touch my
