tastes like.
Heaven, I imagine.
“You’re not helping,” he rumbles, his voice tortured and low and lined with his ever-present amusement. His joy has always been my kryptonite. How anyone maintains happiness after losing what he’s lost and starting over at such a young age is beyond me. Money may solve a lot of problems, but it can’t replace a loving family.
“Are you uncomfortable?” He traces one of my forearms, still crossed over my breasts.
“I’m curious. I want to touch you.”
His grin widens.
“I also want to kiss you. Down there,” I finish on a whisper.
His smile is gone, his grip on my arm tight. “That’s not why I asked you in here, Cris. You’re supposed to be learning how to take. How to accept what you deserve. Find out what you’ve been missing.”
“That is something I’ve been missing. I just didn’t realize it until now.”
He presses my back against the cool, slate blue shower tiles. His body is lined up against mine, every hard, wet plane, including the several inches jutting from between his legs now nestled at my middle. It’s as unyielding as the rest of him.
I take his tongue on mine, giving in to the urge to make out with him while hot water pounds his back and steam rises around us. The deep exploration of our mouths is as amazing as everything else we do together. No surprise there. My body is humming in anticipation. I know what he’s capable of with his mouth. I’m curious what I can accomplish with mine.
“I can’t let you do it,” he says between kisses. “Fuck, but I want to.”
I love how desperate he sounds.
“Let me,” I beg.
“No.” The word comes from between clenched teeth.
I reach between our bodies and palm his length, my grip slippery. “Please.”
His eyes open lazily, but the rest of him is strung taut. “Cris, this isn’t the way I planned—”
I press my finger to his mouth to stop the words trying to come out. I trust him. He should trust me. It’s in the unwritten best-friend codebook.
“I want to.” I run my finger down his chin to his neck and chest and finally drag it along his stomach. I stroke his cock and watch my own movements, the way the water trickles over the inches of him embraced by my curled fingers. I am nothing short of delighted when I notice he’s watching too.
His hands were gripping my elbows but they loosen, giving me permission to explore him further. I don’t hesitate. I lower to my knees on the tile floor, the water blocked by his body. Rivulets form a Y and pour off his chin, run down his chest and legs. I like how he watches me. I watched him go down on me. I remember how turned on I was.
I lick the tip of his cock, which is velvet soft. A tight hiss of air escapes from between his teeth. I close my lips over the head and he moans. Oh, yes. This is going to be fun. Now I know why he looked so damned pleased with himself when he went down on me. I feel powerful enough to conquer the world.
I set my pace to stun, licking and sucking with renewed fervor. I experiment with swirling my tongue over the head, running it along his length, and cupping his balls in my hand. So into what I’m doing and the heavy feel of him taking up my mouth, I barely hear him over the spray when he commands me to stop.
He doesn’t say it again. He hoists me to my feet and plunders my mouth with his tongue, and then reroutes my hand and motions for me to stroke him. As I do, he dips his fingers into my heat, finding me warm and wet. What I was doing didn’t only turn him on. I’m right there with him. He maneuvers us out of the shower spray and we continue stroking each other.
“Dammit, Cris, come,” he growls into my mouth. “I’m dying here.”
On his command, an orgasm stampedes through my body, leaving wreckage in its wake. I drop my head back against the tile, squirming against his magic fingers. I remember at the last minute to watch as I stroke him to completion. Making sure to absorb the awed expression on his face, the way his eyebrows pucker. He bares his teeth and his eyes squeeze closed like he can’t take another moment of pleasure. He’s never been more attractive. A low groan echoes