Serafina and the Virtual Man - By Marie Treanor Page 0,61

little inside her.

He wiggled his eyebrows, and she felt him twitch inside her in a teasing sort of way. When she gasped again, he held her by the hips and gave a deliberate thrust that pushed him the rest of the way in.

“That’s better,” he said huskily. “Now we can wash in comfort.”

“Wash,” she repeated with derision while she savoured the feel of him just being there inside her.

“Of course,” he said and splashed water up over her head.

“Agh,” she exclaimed, reacting in kind, and the ensuing water fight was short-lived, for every movement caused a positive cascade of delicious sensations inside her, and his breathing told her he was not unaffected either. In the end, he leaned right into her, paused to kiss her mouth, thus stilling her splashing hand with derisory ease. Then he reached beyond her to the corner of the bath and leaned back again with an elegant crystal bottle in his hand. He poured the pale green liquid into his palms and began to massage it into her wet head.

Which was when she suddenly realised what water and washing really meant. “Shite, I must look like a clown,” she said in dismay, splashing water all over her face and scrubbing to get rid of all the running makeup she was sure must be there. “And then there’ll just be me, with no face…”

He caught her hands in his. “Hey, stop, you’ll get soap in your eyes.”

She blinked at him through the drips, tried to turn her face aside because no one, no one saw her without her war paint. Why had she agreed to the bath? It would spoil everything.

Worse, his face followed hers, insisting on looking right at her. His lips were curved into a smile, and, amazingly, his eyes were still warm. “This is virtual reality, remember? No running mascara here. Besides, you’re beautiful whatever you put on,” he added softly. “I like you best of all like this.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t,” she managed.

His lips quirked, and he moved suggestively inside her. “I’ve got proof.”

She couldn’t prevent the slightly choked laugh that escaped her. It gave her the courage to meet his gaze.

Slowly, he lifted his hands and began to rub the shampoo into her hair. At the same time, he dropped kisses on her eyelids and cheeks and mouth. After a moment, she twisted to pick up the crystal bottle and poured some shampoo into her own hands before smothering his hair in it too. While they washed each other, he began to move in a gentle, rocking motion that she could only respond to. Gradually, the movements changed to more obvious thrusts. Having soaped his chest, loving the feel of his skin under all the slippery suds, she teasingly turned her attention to her own breasts.

He watched her avidly, especially when she lingered on her nipples. His breath hitched. “Let me rinse that for you,” he murmured and simply held them and caressed them, and then put his mouth to one nipple and sucked hard. Instinctively, she thrust onto him, and the exciting, thrilling push and pull intensified. He held her hips, increasing the speed until orgasm tore her apart for the third time. She fell backward into the water, with Adam on top of her, still pushing into her. The wildly splashing, rolling water seemed like a cocoon, enfolding her body in warm, all-consuming rapture. She held on to his bottom, loving the feel of it bucking and pushing, and then he was still, gazing into her eyes as he came, and nothing she’d ever seen or imagined had ever been so beautiful.

I did that, she thought, awed. I made him come. I gave him that pleasure…

“God, I feel smug,” she whispered, and Adam’s shoulders began to shake.

“Not half as smug as me. Did I drown you?”

“Don’t you have a safety mechanism for that kind of thing?”

“In theory,” he said cautiously. “Not sure it works.”

He shifted his weight off her, easing out of her, and propped himself half sitting against the back of the bath. Jilly twisted around to sprawl between his legs with her back against his chest. She said reluctantly, “I should go back. See if Sera’s dealt with that damned poltergeist.” Except that it was too pleasant lying here, watching his hand lazily knead her breast and feel the slow-building ache of new desire form from the afterglow of what they’d just done.

“You probably should,” he agreed and tugged her head back gently by