I draw circles on his torso. Small at first, but increasingly wider. When my palm slides over a n****e, he shudders. I burrow deeper into his arms and skim over the second n****e, too, hiding my smile in the crook of his neck at the sharp exhale pushed out of his chest. I elongate the circles, dragging my palm over his pecs, his clavicle, then further down his abdomen, his lower belly, grazing against the waistband of his underwear.
Julian hums. “What are you doing?”
“Rocking you to sleep. Is it helping?”
“That’s not how you rock someone to sleep.”
“It’s not?”
“No.”
“Then why don’t you tell me what I’m doing.”
He lays his hand on top of my exploring one and gently guides it down his body until both our hands rest on his hardening d**k.
“Oh?” I say, going for innocent and not succee
