Lust made her bold and she followed his lead, diving her fingers into the back of his hair. A quick yank pulled his head back until she could lick up his neck.
“I said ‘my turn.’ Turn around, Murphy, so I can wash your back.”
He devoured her with his eyes, but he obeyed.
Palms pressed on the tile, he looked over his shoulder, daring, urging her to touch him. She scored from his nape to his ass with her nails, leaving thin red lines in their trail. Shiny gel Inez Kelley
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dripped slowly along his shoulder as her wrist turned and traced a path back up. Like budding wings, his shoulder blades shuddered at her touch.
She slicked the foam down every inch, around heaving ribs, into the dip of his spine, along the crest of his hips.
He likes this, the aggression, the animalistic
power
.
Drunk with that power, she ran her foot along the inside of his calf, down to his ankle, kicking it to widen his stance. His back stiffened until her fingers skimmed downward. She stroked over the curve of his ass to the backs of his legs. Along the insides of his corded thighs, his muscles twitched.
Her tongue dipped along his spine. She cupped his ass then followed the soap’s glide along his cleft.
His snarl echoed and he whipped around,
grabbing for her. No kiss they’d shared had ever been deeper. Tiny bubbles spread down his body, coating hers where they met. He palmed her ass, hauling her tighter to him. Water streamed along her back, whisking away the froth, intensifying the graze of his hands. Livvy purred at his thick length pressed against her tummy.
Her hands dove between their bodies. She
caressed the wide head before coiling her fingers around his shaft. His sudden intake of breath sang in her ear. She deliberately touched slower and lighter than she knew he liked. Rumbles deep in 332
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his chest voiced his impatience. He thrust into her palm, wanting more. She shoved and he took a step back.
Broad-tongued, she skimmed up his jaw, the rasp of whiskers heightening her thirst and then dropped low, licking down his collarbone. Her teeth found a small flat nipple and bit. A shocked sound left his lips seconds before they sought and captured hers.
The tang of desire burst in her mouth as his tongue hunted hers. Not ready to relinquish power, Livvy thrust off his hands. She circled down his hip, across his cock and gripped his balls. His head snapped back in pleasure. Water drenched his hair and her name ripped from his lips. She tightened her hold, squeezing and stroking with both hands.
She miscalculated. His excitement was higher than she imagined. John took control. Smooth tile met her back as his body slammed into hers and held her flush to the wall. He framed her face in impatient hands, bruising her mouth with his. His fingers buried in her long wet curls and he tightened his grip, pulling until her head was angled back.
“You like that.” Rasping in raw hunger, he dared her to challenge him.
She couldn’t. She did like it, the almost force, being controlled by him in small gestures, Inez Kelley
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knowing she had driven him to this point. Her slight nod was met by a firm drive of his hips into hers. A shiver of need shot down her spine.
John took her mouth, nibbling her lips, her chin, her throat until she cried his name, wanting, needing more. His stubbled jaw scoured her skin.
One leg shot between hers. John jerked her knee over his, opening her to his touch. Her hips bucked at the first stroke but he held her firm, fingers knotted in her hair, mouth at her throat. He glided over folds slick with feminine heat then drove deep, sinking into her. Her clit ached in glorious anguish against his hand. Wet curls brushed his palm and his touch sank deeper.
A violent tornado twisted in her muscles. She arched to him, tiles biting into her shoulders, her leg twining around his. A throbbing shifted to a tense tingle inside her.
“Let go, honey. Let it happen.”
She climaxed at his command. Her body
convulsed in utter abandonment, cries of pleasure rebounding off wet walls. Her useless legs could not support her trembling and she clung to his shoulders.
John held her as her hazy eyes slowly
refocused. Her first sight was of John smirking in triumph.
Now the fun begins
. Livvy filled her lungs with damp wet air scented with soap and sex. She laid her palms flat on his chest, pushed 334
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him back and closed the distance in less than half a heartbeat.
“You’re entirely too cocky.”
“Partially right,” he laughed.
Water sluiced over her shoulders, splashing her skin, spraying him with fine droplets. Her hand skimmed down his body and Livvy whispered,
“Forgive me.”
She reached behind her. In one motion, she popped the door latch, snapped the hot water off and bolted from the shower. Icy cold needles peppered her leg and the flow hit John straight in the groin.
John’s pained cry blasted the room. Her lips twisted in a sympathetic grimace when she heard him smack the faucet. Snagging a thick towel from the sink ledge, Livvy darted out of the bathroom. The shower door slammed open and he screamed her name, not in pleasure. She wrapped the towel around her dripping hair.
“What the hell was that?” He jerked a towel around his hips and stalked to her. “Christ, Livvy, that wasn’t fucking funny!”
Water dripped steadily from his hair, cascading down his neck and shoulders, dripping across a chest that heaved with frustration. She leaped to him, pressing her mouth to his. His lips were cold, the chill making them firm. Or maybe it was his anger.
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“I’m sorry. I never expected things to get so…hot in there. I just wanted to tease you. But you touched me and…” She shrugged at him.
His jaw clenched tight. “Next time, say ‘John, stop.’ Do
not
do that again. I’m serious, Liv, it hurt.”
Livvy rubbed his cold nose with hers. “I’m sorry. I promise I did have a reason.”
“What possible reason could you have for
trying to freeze my balls off?”
“So I could heat them up, of course.” She took his hand and pulled him farther into the darkened bedroom.
“I’d rather you just left them warm to begin with.”
A chair from his dining table sat at the base of his bed. Livvy felt his questioning eyes fall on her and averted her face. She’d never get through this if she looked in his face. She guided him to the caneback chair.
“Livvy, wha—?”
“Shh. Just sit.”
He settled in the chair, brows drawn
quizzically. A hot burn told her she was blushing but it didn’t keep her from leaning into him. Her breasts swayed, the water on her skin cooling in the air conditioning, as she pulled the towel from her hair. She dropped the wet terrycloth at his feet 336
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and took his hands, wrapping them around the chair arms.
“Livvy?”
“Promise me.” The catch in her voice made her close her eyes and when they opened, they connected with his.
“Promise what?”
“Promise me you won’t move. And you won’t talk.” She brought her lips to his ear. “And you won’t join in.”
His hand shot out to grasp her arm. “Won’t join what, Liv?”
She peeled his fingers from her skin and put them back on the chair arm. “I’m going to give you your fantasy.”
Chapter Thirteen
John had to forcibly snap his mandible back in place.
Give me my fantasy?
Lust pounced like a starving panther as she crawled on his bed into a mound of pillows. They surrounded her shoulders and back, angling her body into a semi-reclined position directly in front of him. From above the swell of her breasts to the roots of her hair, a fiery blush stained her skin red.
A small smile softened his mouth. That she would try to do this for him was intensely erotic and incredibly sweet. John leaned on the chair arm, loose fist to his chin. Her eyes closed and her hands trembled. She’d given him more than one fantasy but he doubted she would be able to deliver this one. Livvy was too nervous. No, Livvy was too mortified. Her movements were hesitant and self-conscious. Sharing something so intimate and private went against her nature but that she tried meant everything to him. No woman had ever cared so much about pleasing him.
Then something changed. The stiffness went out of her limbs, the lines of her face eased and Livvy stopped trying to please him. She began pleasing herself. And John went hard.
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That hair—that glorious ginger hair that teased and tempted him, begged him to run his fingers through it—fanned out on several pillows. Water had deepened the color until it nearly matched the small V above her thighs. He clutched the chair arms, his hands itching to grasp those wet locks.
A harsh swallow forced the ball of desire down past his galloping heart. He imagined her closed eyes were viewing some private film reel, living some secret fantasy of which he’d never know.
She’d told him she’d thought of him the night they met. Was she thinking of him now? The thought of her imagining anyone else knotted his brows in jealousy. Livvy was his, damn it!
Her rounded nails scored down her breasts, and his mouth watered. Nipples the color of roses stood to her fingers’ touch, pebbled beneath an invisible lover’s mouth. He could feel them next to his tongue, knew the texture as they tightened.
Around the bottom swell of her left breast—a breast that fit so firmly into his hand—she stroked, slowly, gently, before circling to do the same above. Her second hand repeated her motions on the other breast.
Her breath quickened, her pink tongue darting out to her full bottom lip. He echoed the move.
Water dripped down his neck and back, chilled trickles highlighting the increased heat of his skin.
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should have been enough to stifle the growing pulse in his cock but it had little effect. The brush of the terrycloth was nearly painful. Had Livvy not shocked him with the freezing water, he’d have come already. Even now, his erection was full force, achy and heavy. Slouching, he spread his knees slightly, balls tightening in want.
One slow hand skimmed down her stomach
before it dipped between her legs. John froze. She parted her thighs a fraction, not nearly a large enough fraction, Livvy teased the flesh around her sex. He mentally begged her to let her legs fall open a bit more.
This was not porn, not a staged, filmed, and artificial act. This was Livvy, a real live woman, his woman, in private, pleasing herself. If she were acting for him, surely she would want to move her leg and let him glimpse the full show.
But he was just a voyeur into her actions, her intimate, personal actions. How humbling and exciting at the same moment.
A flush turned her skin to peach and the flavor flooded his mind. He craved peaches, the juicy flesh that filled his mouth with sugar. He wanted the peach of Livvy’s skin beneath his tongue. She whimpered. The sound was an erotic shot straight to his groin. He jerked the towel aside and gripped his aching shaft. He pumped his fist, tasting her in memory.
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The hand at her breast toyed with a stiffened nipple, pinching harder than John would have imagined but found fascinating. She continued to stroke just the outermost edge of cinnamon. Slow pulls along his shaft mimicked her touch. She lifted her chin as if in a kiss. Lush lips whispered something too low for him to hear and his heart pounded. Was she thinking of him? Dear God, he hoped so but would he ever know? Did he even want to know if it wasn’t him?
Her tongue skated across her lips and her legs shifted. His stomach muscles clenched as the glossy folds peeked from behind her fingers. His hold tightened, gripping his cock more firmly, wishing it were her soft walls around him. One, then two, of her fingers slipped between slick layers and he had to bite his lips to contain his moan. Did she know how beautiful this was? Her breath shuddered as she found the hidden pearl he wanted.
God, he loved the sounds she made. Low and throaty, they hypnotized him with her mating call.
He forced his hand away from his cock. He didn’t want to come yet. He wanted to be with her when that happened. His hands shot to the towel and grasped the edge in a white-knuckled crush.
The booming of his heart rang in his ears as she moved those teasing fingers up and down, back and forth. He knew how hot her flesh would Inez Kelley
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be and his knuckles cracked with his fisted restraint. Short rough pants filled the air but he wasn’t sure which of them they belonged to.
Finally, her knees fell open and her feet climbed higher on the sheet until she was spread before him. A tic formed over his brow and sweat beaded on his lip. He wanted her to hurry. He wanted her to slow. He wanted her. Pink and glistening, her flesh beckoned to him, openly tempted him.
With two lazy fingers, Livvy circled the bud he knew would be firm and tight. His tongue
mimicked her move. Slicking the nub between those fingers, she moaned and his cock jumped.
John clenched his teeth. She’d begged him to stay seated, stay silent and not join her. Keeping that promise was torture. Muscles stiffened over every inch of his body as he struggled not to give in to his need to possess her, to love her like no imaginary lover could.
One finger touched her clit, tapped it with a butterfly-light rhythm. His brow rose and he added the new trick to his memory of her. When her hips started rocking to her touch, a soft growl eked out before he could catch it. Faster now, her fingers slid over her wetness and he clamped his fists on the chair arms. She was driving him mad.
John had no idea how many orgasms he’d
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them, heard them. He’d never seen them, not from this viewpoint. The sight inflamed him like a gasoline-soaked cloth. Mouth open in silent scream, her lips exposed her sharp teeth. Her neck and back bowed. Her hips pressed into the mattress. Her heels bit into the sheet. Her toes curled. Her knees shook.