Preston took her hand, leading her to the bathroom. She leaned against the sink while he reached into the shower, turning on the water and adjusting the temperature.
Once it was warm enough, he crooked his finger, allowing her to step inside first. There was a rain showerhead above them, in addition to the one at the side, so that both of them were submerged beneath the jets.
Chelsea tilted her head back, wetting her hair and slicking it back with her hands, as he pumped a few squirts of shampoo into his palm from the bottle provided by the hotel.
She looked surprised and pleased when he began to wash her hair, the citrus-scented suds filling the air. Chelsea moaned as he massaged her scalp, applying pressure meant to relax her.
“That feels incredible.” She closed her eyes when he guided her under the showerhead, rinsing out the shampoo.
Opening her eyes, she gave him a mischievous grin. “I’d like to return the favor, but I think I need a step ladder to reach your hair.”
Preston chuckled, then craned his head toward the corner behind him. “Lucky for us. There’s a bench seat.” He sank down on it, his firm hands on her hips, pulling her forward until she stood in front of him.
Chelsea reached for the shampoo, gasping softly when Preston put their new position to good use, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth.
She managed to work up a lather in his hair as he tormented her breasts with his teeth and fingers and tongue. He loved the way she forgot herself at times, her fists closing in his hair, tugging it roughly in response to his ministrations.
“So good,” she whispered. “You make me feel so good.”
Unable to hold back, Preston rose and quickly rinsed his own hair before twisting Chelsea away from him, pushing her chest against the tiled wall in front of her.
With his hand, he guided his cock between her legs, stroking it along her wet slit. Chelsea gripped him between her clenched thighs, adding her own motion to the thrust.
Preston continued to stroke, the head of his cock brushing her clit over and over. On one return thrust, Chelsea tilted her hips too much and his dick slipped inside her pussy. He clenched his teeth, gripping her hard to hold her still. He’d never taken a woman without a condom, and honestly, he could have gone a lifetime without knowing how fucking amazing it felt, because now…
Jesus.
He couldn’t linger inside her, but pulling away was almost physically impossible.
Why the fuck hadn’t he thought to grab a condom before leading her to the shower?
Probably because he’d just fucking come.
Chelsea squirmed as much as his tight grip would allow, her pussy clenching around him, seeking more, until she realized why he was holding back. He groaned as the two of them pulled away from each other, his dick mourning the loss of her hot cunt.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t…I mean… It just feels…”
“Yeah,” he agreed, pushing his cock back between her thighs, resuming the tantalizing, irresistible feeling of being tucked between the lips of her pussy. Reaching around her, he rubbed her clit, pinching it a couple of times, causing her to rise on her tiptoes as she moaned. The friction between her thighs was driving his arousal higher than he expected.
“God. I think I’m going to…” she gasped. “This isn’t…normal.”
It spoke to just what a loser her ex was that she seemed shocked to discover she could come more than one—five—times in a night.
“It’s completely normal,” he replied, increasing the pressure of his fingers on her clit as he continued to slide between her thighs, the motion pushing him to the brink again as well. While he wasn’t a stranger to multiple orgasms in a single evening, his recovery time was usually longer. Something told him he could come right now, and only need a few minutes before he was ready to take her again.
Suddenly, three condoms didn’t feel like anywhere near enough.
Chelsea used her forearms, pressed flat against the tile wall, to help propel herself back and forth in time with his movements.
Unable to resist, he gripped her ass cheek with his free hand while still working her clit with the other. Sliding his thumb through the crack, he wiggled it over her anus, loving the loud gasping burst of air that erupted from her lips.
“Preston!”
There was enough shock in the tone to let him know she was novice at anal play. If that was all he heard, he would have pulled back. However, there was just as much interest in those two syllables, so he wiggled his thumb again.
Her head bowed forward as her body began to tremble, a sign her climax was rapidly approaching. Not for the first time tonight, he cursed the fact she was leaving.
Fucking Paris.
