Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

I giggle a little when I picture my living room walls
crammed with paintings of Kage’s erection.
He rolls his head to one side and gazes at me with hazy,
half-lidded eyes. He caresses my face. In a husky voice, he
says, “If I had a more fragile ego, I might not take it so well
that you’re laughing when your face is two inches from my
dick.”
I give him a few more licks, then crawl up his body and lie
on top of him, draping my bound arms over his head and
snuggling my face into the crook between his neck and
shoulder.
“I was just thinking you’d make a great nude model. If I
brought you into sketch class, my students would die.”
Winding his arms around my back, he nuzzles my hair.
“Your classes have nude models?”
“No. The kids are too young for that. But you’re inspiring
me to start teaching night school for adults.” I tilt my head and
smile up at him. “I could make a lot of money charging
admission if you were on the ticket.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “You don’t need to worry
about money anymore, remember? By the way, why haven’t
you started taking draws from the trust?”
I crinkle my nose. “Can we please have a few minutes of
uninterrupted afterglow before we start talking about money?”
He cups my face and softly kisses my lips. “You might be
the only person I’ve met who doesn’t care about it.”
“Oh, I care about it. I just don’t want to feel like you gave
me a ten-million-dollar payment for services rendered.”
After a moment, he starts to chuckle. Short, silent chuckles
that shake his chest. “What if I said it was only a fifty-dollar
payment, and the rest was a tip?”
“If my wrists weren’t tied together, I’d smack you a good
one, you jerk.”
He rolls me over and presses me against the mattress,
smiling down at me, so handsome, it hurts.