Showering together? I quickly get out of the bathroom and find myself hovering in the hallway, unsure of what to do with myself. Again I could tell him no.
Or I could shower with him.
I’d never actually showered with a guy before. I’m not even sure if it’s supposed to lead to sex.
Might be good practice for the next book, I tell myself.
Or I could just run like hell.
The door opens a crack and he peers at me through it. “Good. Thought maybe you left.”
Didn’t even get a chance. “I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him.
He opens the door wider and strides over to the shower and even though I saw his ass a million times last night during the Fluffy escapade it’s still a sight to behold.
What a fucking wonderful ass.
He turns around, the water running.
And an even better cock.
I mean. Damn. Seriously.
I could write an entire book about his cock.
In fact, I might have to.
I step into the shower, trying to shed any ounce of insecurity.
It’s all gone the moment he lays his hands on me.
Soap works its way over my body, over every crevice, his hands gentle with just enough pressure, sliding over my breasts, my stomach, my hips, my thighs.
When I’m slick as anything I return the favor.
I soap up every inch of him as I take it all in, marveling at this fine specimen, his body belonging to a Greek god. Not kidding. Even the overlooked male body parts like calves and feet are perfect. His feet are huge and well-groomed with clipped toe nails and no toe hair. His calves are long and broad with the right pop of muscle. No chicken legs here, which is such a rarity on guys his age.
Then there are his thighs, looking like they could be sculpted out of gold and on display in a museum in some sort of feat of athletic prowess.
His abs? Zac Efron worthy.
His ass? I can’t even go there. I could bounce quarters off it though. And I really, really want to sink my teeth into it, just to see what it feels like.
His back looks like he could rip a door off and throw it fifty feet.
Then again, his chest, shoulders, arms, all say the same thing.
He’s not what he would call a “roid monkey” but I say he belongs on a book cover anyway. He’s fucking perfect, and way, way too hot for a girl like me.
And I’m going to take complete advantage of it.
He’s completely covered in foam from head to toe now.
“Rinse,” I tell him, hanging the sponge back up.
He raises his brows, wiping the water from his face. “Bossy.”
But he steps into the stream, washing it off.
You see, I don’t want soap in my mouth.
And I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.
I get down on my knees, ignoring the hardness of the tiles beneath my knees and focusing on the hardness of his cock as it bobs in front of me, water rolling off the broad tip. My fingers wrap around the thick base of his shaft, tentative at first. I can’t remember how Alan wanted to be touched when I gave him head and Blake is so much more experienced, I don’t want to do it wrong.
I take in a deep breath, trying not to choke on the water, and slowly, carefully slide his tip through my lips. I let my eyes fall closed at the sound of his moan. The taste of him, mild in the water but still one hundred per cent man, hits my tongue and spurs something deep inside of me, making me crave him even more.
“Shit,” he murmurs, voice breaking into a groan, placing one hand against the wall to keep himself upright, those abs of his straining.
I slide my lips to the end then stroke along the underside of his shaft with my tongue, feeling how hot his skin is, smoothing over every vein and rock-hard ridge.
“Look at me,” he whispers. “I want you to watch me watching you.”
Boldly, I look up and our eyes meet in a current of lust until I put him in my mouth again. It’s just too much for him. He pinches his eyes shut, forehead wrinkled, mouth dropping open as he sucks in air.
I want to take my time, watching him slowly succumb to me. There’s so much power in my hands and nothing more intoxicating than knowing you’re bringing a man to the edge. Blowjobs are not only overrated, they’re addictive and I can easily see myself having a bit of a cock craving when it comes to him. Or a lot of a cock craving, whatever.
The moans that come out of his mouth now as I work him steadily with hands, lips, tongue, are becoming lower, like they’re rising from a deeper, more animalistic side of him. I saw parts of this side last night and I want more of it. I want to see Blake surrender to me, completely. I want to see him change into an animal with just one craving: me.
His legs stiffen and his body becomes strained, the tension building inside him. I glance up and our eyes meet briefly and his glazed expression tell me that he’s in awe, that at least for now, he’s mine and at my mercy.
I should be gentle with him.
But I’m not.
If anything, I’m emboldened.
My fist moves faster, slick and wet over his hot length and my free hand moves up his legs until they find his perfectly groomed balls. I tug lightly, testing him.
“Fuck!” he cries out hoarsely. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”
I try not to smile, knowing now what triggers him. His cock becomes hotter, his skin stretched under my lips and I keep going as I feel him change in my grasp.
Every muscle in his body stills, frozen, as the orgasm hits him, then suddenly he’s panting, his breath rough and ragged and his cum is shooting into my mouth, almost to the back of my throat.