His sharp intake of breath is a reward. His next groan is pure torture.
“Start here,” I tell him, my voice gaining strength, “then move to what feels right.”
For a heartbeat, he just holds his hand there. Then his fingers move. His thumb finds my nipple, circling it once, twice, a slow torture that makes me whimper. Then he pinches.
A groan rolls through him before he compliments how my soft body is. One rougher squeeze as me arching against the shower wall, and now I can’t tell if I want his hands to explore, or discover what his tongue feels like on my body.
I’m not a greedy kind of person, but with this man, I want to be.
I don’t have to drag him toward me. He comes back to my mouth on a groan of his own, his kiss more frantic now, fueled by the line we’ve crossed. His other hand joins the first, his touch becoming bolder, mapping the curve of my waist, the swell of my hip.
All the while, his cock grinds against my lower stomach, that thick, veined length a relentless pressure. The friction is maddening, a delicious tease of what could come.
He steps even closer, if that’s possible, eliminating the last sliver of space between us until I can feel every hard, demanding inch of him.
I want to touch him back.
His entire frame rumbles as my nails scratch the back of his hair. Pulling him back, my teeth graze against his jaw.
“Be honest with me, Charles.” Kissing closer to his ear, we both groan in unison as his hips jerk. “I bet you’re used to being surrounded by women. This can’t be anything special.”
I need him to confirm my suspicions so I don’t start falling into a hole I won’t be able to claw my way out of. Once I’m too deep, I’ll be ready to offer my heart, only to have it be forgotten and used.
Sliding his hand from my hip to my ass, a whimper slips out when he squeezes me hard from behind. Pulling back to get a look at him, I don’t expect to see a frown on his lips.
“Ellie…” Another squeeze brings another whimper. “This iseverything.”
Having a hard time believing that could be the truth, there’s no denying the passion behind his voice.
“I’m not that kind of man, if you can believe it.” Grumpily, his nose scrunches. “I don’t fool around.”
The longer I spend with him, the more I realize that he really isn’t the man I thought he would be. All the money, the power? It didn’t corrupt him in the slightest. He’s still the same Charles I remember. Just older and sexier.
I want him. It’s dangerous what I’m willing to risk by allowing my heart to lead, but I’m doing it. I’m not going to keep holding myself back because I’m afraid of how the future will turn out.
What happens, happens.
A hiss leaves his lips when I flatten my hands against his chest and drag my nails down his entire front. He’s got a trail of dark hair that starts at his navel leading lower,lower, all the way until I reach my destination. He must really like my nails. Or, maybe he just likes my touch alone. Either way, his cock jerks as I reach the base.
“Fuck, Ellie.” He grits his jaw, trying to keep his composure intact. “Let me touch you. You don’t have to—”
“This ismyfantasy.” Confessing the truth, I sink my teeth into the inside of my cheek, trying to contain my composure. Hard to do when I’m about to have my high school crush’s cockweighing down my palm. “I’ve pictured it so many times. Putting your pleasure first…”
My fingers, slick from water, finally close around him. Both hands. I have to use both hands.
He’s immense. Thick and heavy, a solid, searing heat in my palms. The skin is like silk over stone.
A choked, ragged breath is torn from his chest the moment I make contact. It’s not a moan, not yet. It’s the sound of a man hitting his limit. His head falls forward in defeat, his eyes squeezing shut. His hips give an involuntary jerk, pushing himself deeper into my encircling grip.
“God, Ellie,” he gasps, the words strangled.
I begin to move, one hand stroking that impossible length from root to tip, my thumb swiping over the leaking slit. The other hand cups the tight, heavy sac beneath, cradling him. A low, continuous moan rumbles in his throat, a hungry sound that’s making my own body wake up.
I have to be careful. This isn’t the place to get wound up. I can’t just have him take me here in the very public bathroom.
“Shhh,” I whisper, my lips close to his ear. My voice is barely a breath, competing with the drumming water. “You have to be quiet. The other guests…”
He groans a sound of protest, and his eyes snap open. The desire in them is wild, untamed. In one swift movement, his hand comes up to cradle the back of my head, and he crashes his mouth to mine. It’s not a gentle kiss. It’s a desperate attempt to swallow the noises I’m pulling from him. I kiss him back with equal fervor, my hands never stopping their rhythm on his burning skin.
