He was fast asleep on your chest, his hands curled into balls at your sides as you raked your fingers through his soft hair, watching him breathe deeply under the unconscious shades of his deepest, darkest secrets buried behind the beautiful man he was; there were many facets of his life you chose to not dig into, given the complexities and obstacles in his upbringing owing to the obvious anomaly on full display, the processes and cost of maintaining its serene state as well as the strenuous offload his body had to endure, and you knew it couldn't have been easy on him. Nero took all of this in his stride, illustrating the profoundly strong person he was yet ignoring the more important strain that was being affected. You could shed thousands of tears at his internal struggle every day, not wanting to dive into his head at all the buzzing and static that whizzed against his skull; most of those thoughts would probably make another of weakened stature scream in agony at the pain of the migraines of overthinking and overcomplicating the simplest of tasks, deepening your respect for the man draped over you in all his pale goodness.

You reached for your phone on your dresser next to you, trying to move as little as possible as a groan reverberated against your chest, Nero flinging his arms in the air looking for your hands to place them back in their original position. "I thought you were asleep."

Your hands found their place once again. "I was," he replied, purring under the sensation caused by your fingers. "And then I remembered where I was…" His fists unclenched to take homage along the sides of your body, "…and with whom…" The soft skin under his worship, tightening with your abdominal muscles as this breath tingled on your chest. "…so I figured sleep unnecessary in this time of crisis." He lifted his head and placed his chin in a small crevice, pouting his lips as both his hands moved to fondle your responsive breasts, massaging them heartily and playing with your nipples until they were hard enough to handle his unruly mouth.

"Crisis, you say?" Your arms flung behind you as you allowed him to do as he pleased with your body, arching your back into his nurtures as the best wakeup call you've received in a long time; Nero scaled the familiar terrain, dropping small kisses as breadcrumbs on your ribcage and to your neck all the while holding the lumps on your chest in his smooth, supple palms. He commanded your body with a single look, those glaciers freezing your every thought and motion in place for him to take over, melting you under those same hands that numbed your rationality and pulled you into his wispy web of fussy intrigue.

He looked deep into your eyes as you lay still beneath him, not daring to move a muscle in the unlikely event of breaking what could be an intimate moment. "I must have lost my mind a long time ago."

Nero sucked his fingers and traced your lips, dipping his head to welcome the new day in style. Your body liquefied at the intensity of his kiss, bringing back memories of the previous night that had burrowed into every inch of your heated skin. His tongue was slow, dampening your resolve a fragment at a time with his bewitching essence that you held onto so dearly. "Switch with me."

His bringer was glowing to your mutual ardour, tracing the lines of your face as he tucked a few stray strands behind your ear. "Huh?"

You were already moving, sitting on your knees and waiting for him to take your place. "Get on your back, dummy." He stayed on his side, waving his open palms in the air and throwing the question to the invisible wavelength you were both coasting; you pointed harshly to his chest, then to the portion of the bed in front of you, aligning your fists together and pumping them against your chest. "You didn't let me last night."

He gave up, losing the battle before it started; he stretched under the covers and you moved between his legs, forming a tiny tent with the duvet. "He proved too much for your little vagina, sweety; what was he going to do to that poor little mouth of yours?"

Nero knew better than to put his hands behind his head but did it anyway, not believing you had it in you to make him come with your mouth and hands only; little did he know that it wouldn't just be your limbs doing the work. "Oh, we'll see." The duvet fell to his knees as he spread his legs per your instruction, your nails scraping the underside of his thighs while a smile beamed on his face, falling flat to the bed as you took his pink tip into your mouth, pulling his focus onto you and your need for his orgasm in every nook and cranny of it. You sucked at his tip like a straw, hallowing your cheeks for the raw flesh around it to ripen with the available friction you had triggered until the first drops of precum hit your tongue, using it to lather the rest of his strengthening length to support your hands in their enclosed duty to bring him to dust. He was big enough for both of your hands to fit around him and just the right thickness for a deft clasp; you began at his base, constricting the joints in your hand to knead more blood into the muscle – he stiffened in front of your eyes, pulsating in tune with his heart that concentrated his remaining fluid to the organ as you worked on him relentlessly. Your other hand attached itself directly underneath his tip, twisting and pulling at the loose skin of his penis as his hips grew tense under the stress you were constructing along his erection. You risked a peek, watching his hands hover in the air on a direct route to embed themselves in your scalp; his lids closed as his blue orbs rolled into his skull, his lungs now feeling the weight of the distrust and mistake of his assumptions. The ghost of a moan escaped his body through his mouth in time with a quiet spill of his milky sanity over his length; it dripped slowly, its viscosity disallowing a fast travel to his base. Oh, this is gonna be good. You licked at his base with your tongue swollen in thirst, tilting your head to lap up the silken saltiness and bite on his thickness, following the trail upward with gentle flicks of your lips on his erection.

Nero clenched his teeth at the extraordinary feats of your mouth on him, raking both of his hands through your moist roots and gripping tightly, knocking his head against the headboard to regain control over his own body and failing miserably. At long last your teasing ceased, the double-glaze of excitement bubbling in your gut as you took him whole into your throat, your lips crusting the skin at his base while the tight confines of your throat worked against his beating member, making him cry your name into the atmosphere as he scrunched his form to be closer to your bobbing head, proving him wrong with each dive his pinkness melted behind your mouth. He clawed at the back of your neck as you combined the two, hitting his head on the sturdy wood again; the motions flowed fluidly, pumping him and coating him up in a mix of saliva and cum, your hands practically sliding on him in his entirety and beckoning his second coming.

He quickly yanked at your strands, struggling to open his eyes and see you in your messy, dishevelled state and brought you to his level, his feisty side showing when your hands refused to stop grinding on his swollen penis; Nero got you behind your head, wrenching you into his bubble with no remorse and scarring your mouth in a searing kiss that tingled to your spine and all the way to your toes, curling into the sheets as he was showing the final signs of his defeat – his hand moved to the front of your face, wafting the unnecessary veil of hair that hid your victory; a hastened peck to the lips made worse by your contracting grasp around him, he moaned long and deep into your mouth as he gave you his best orgasm yet, gushing through your fingers as one last drag set him free from your torture.

You felt good as you threw the covers to the end of the bed and the waft of cold air hit him, adding to the gooseflesh accumulating on his chalky, clammy skin; you savoured the view stunned in the covers as his eyes followed your every move, his liquid threads in plain sight. "I'm gonna take a shower. Be a good boy and just-" Nero didn't look like he was planning on going anywhere, "-sit there til I'm done." You stalked to him in your bare glory and he found it within himself to rise on his knees, nuzzling between your breasts and his arms encasing your waist. "I won't be long." He nodded and kissed them individually, the best deed he could carry through on his diminishing energy level as you sneaked into your bathroom, Nero's iced orbs trained to every curve of your back as you closed the door behind you.

You bought it, didn't you?

There was a jump to your step as your bare feet patted against the cold tiles of your shower as you turned the water to its third-highest setting: ten degrees from lukewarm, you let the clean, fresh droplets pour down your face and body at a reasonable speed, fast enough to wake you from the fatigue brought on by the man in the other room. You let the water cascade at your crown, tilting your head for the pressure to relieve the aches in your neck and back, using your hands to quickly wipe down the sweat that had accumulated in your pores. Arriving at the plump skin at your tummy, you slowed and took your time, feeling at the soft flesh and biting your lip the closer you got to your sweltering heat; you were shy at first, dipping your hand slowly between your legs and opening them slightly as if a pair of blue eyes was watching you.

You bowed your head for the water to run through your sticky strands, leaning forward for you to wander around further inside you. The hair around your ears shielded the outside world from your own bubble, concentrating your movements at the echo of your heartbeat resonating through your entire frame – an error on your part in your shock of being turned and pushed into the wall of the shower by two irrevocably big hands, speedily replaced by his naked body as he angled the showerhead to your new position. "Did you really think it would be that easy?"

Nero fell to his knees in front of you, lifting your leg onto his shoulder and nibbling under your belly button, moaning into the heating flesh upon feeling the wetness that had already accumulated at your own hand. You thrust your hips forward onto his awaiting tongue, twirling your wet hair through your fingers at the motions of his mouth, licking you longer and deeper while his fingers cruelly teased your folds open, widening your inflated sex to hit your peak; that spot he held in his hands to mercilessly destroy in front of your very eyes. You head tilted upward slightly, water collecting in your gaping mouth and leaking over its corners as he found it with three added digits, instigating remarkable friction with the relaxed muscles under the command of the soothing shower. He continued to wind you up, not going deep or fast enough for a proper release but keeping you at bay, locked behind a cage of his own assembly until he gave you the key, one all-encompassing knock to your subconscious that would send you reeling into alternate versions of your own reality in his grasp, to come down from your high only by his hand and mind satiated by the whimpers escaping your chest. Sadly, he wasn't in the mood to give you what you needed: his mouth left you twitching on air with a groan that vibrated along the damp tiles.

You dropped your head at the tiny splashes happening below, watching him wipe his chin at the slivers of you he permitted to flow and put them into his mouth. "This hurts me as much as it does you, sweetheart."

He stood, crushing you, blocking the stream of calming water in allowing it to pour down his body. His face floated over yours, provocatively tempting you with a kiss that never came. "Impossible."

You watched him run his fingers through his hair, pushing the unruly strands in their opposite intended direction as he slinked closer, grappling your legs and wrapping them around his waist. Nero planted his feet on the shower floor as he lifted your legs over his elbows, hastily lining up with your entrance he hadn't yet touched since your encounter began and pushing in roughly, burying himself to the hilt inside your ass and clawing into the meat of your thighs to hold you in position. He stepped backward and pushed forcefully into the tiled wall once more, beating you into submission for his final act to sway you to the dark side. He bent to whisper in your ear, his jugular reflecting his diminishing control over his own actions. "It will be over soon, I promise."

You felt his need to the very tips of your toes, curling as they were flailed into the air; the cool of the tiles helped your spiking temperature as he slid inside you with no effort, soft and brutal in pace and guided by the piercing growls that left your burning lungs; one by one he plucked them from you, closing the gaps between his thrusts and giving up on the support of the wall entirely, splaying his fingers on your cheeks and pulling you to him in time with his violent forward shoves, leaving you to helplessly hold him by his neck in a grip that would deplete in a matter of seconds; he beat himself into you, thumping deeper and deeper as the commotion below bounced off the walls fast enough to overlap your own bated breath. "I can feel you, baby; you're close." And you were, but you were missing something: thankfully he was able to read your mind as his pushes edged you on, clashing into the wall and dropping your legs to cater for both of his hands to wreak havoc on your vagina, pounding stroke for stroke to compete with his penis. "Come for me, kitten," he finally says, loud enough to echo along the walls and having it hit your ear canal more than once. "Let me hear you purr."

You didn't need to be told twice: the liquid left your body sadistically, squirting on both of his hands and erection and part of his upper thighs. A deep chuckle left him as you shrieked his name in blue murder, your body melting into his as you held onto one another, riding the wave to a distant land of milk and honey where your mutual fantasies were fulfilled by greedy hands and even greedier sex drives. Nero set you down carefully, ensuring you were fine to stand on your own under the cascading water and cupped you at your jaw, kissing you in vain contrast to his display moments ago; he pacified your mind to its rightful state, running his hands over your form to bring energy to the worn-out muscles. "Let's get you cleaned up, love."

Your fingers tingled out of his touch as he fetched your sponge and scented body wash; he drizzled the liquid all over, letting the sponge soak under the water before turning all of his attention to you. Nero had no idea of the state he left you in, only now coming to terms with what that last orgasm did to you. "Keep your eyes on me, okay?" He couldn't help but smile, knowing he'd turned you into a living, breathing zombie. "I'll take care of you."

Your hair matted to your frozen face, still heavy in the after effects of his unscripted hit on your cracking mind. All you could do was stand still while he roamed your frame, lathering your body in bubbles and soap while you held him tight fearing you'd topple over any second; air expelled from your lungs the closer he scrubbed you intimately, needing the broadness of his shoulders for support as he traversed upward to your back – a relatively safe area – made dangerous by his lips at the crook of your neck. He stepped back and held your hands tightly for a douse, moving your hair accordingly. Now washed and clean, you opened your eyes to see your biggest sin fiddle with your bottle of shampoo, squeezing a portion into his palm. "Your lips are not to leave mine, understand?"

You nodded, his hands delicate in your hair. "Say it."

You swallowed at the implication; fair and square, you were under his spell with no escape in sight. "My lips… are not to leave yours."

As a reflex your face buried itself in his toned chest as the white froth thickened against the base of your scalp. "Good girl." Nero tugged your strands again, leaving your mouth open to devour at his own will and pace, your hands resting on his silky hips and moving to the small of his back as he seduced you by your roots, massaging the tension and tiredness from your frame while enticing you with his mouth and being in the perfect position to deepen it at a moment's notice; he kissed you famished, starved for too long from his inevitable hold on you and playing with the threads of your sanity until there was nothing more you could give, standing as a shell of your former self encased in his touch, his masculinity… his scent.

He held your hair under the water for a quick rinse, separating the tangles for a leisurely wash free of stress and tightly looped it around his first, wringing the excess out of your hair. "That should do it, right?"

Where you found the vitality to smile and laugh would be the world's biggest mystery. "My own personal stylist, who would've guessed?" Your hands found his colossal chest as he reached behind you to turn the taps, ceasing the dull humming of the droplets hitting the floor as he positioned himself in front of you, his hands merciful at the prickling skin of your neck.

"I'm your new personal everything, baby," he said, sealing the promise to your blushing, plump lips.