Deviant (Boys of Winter #3) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,104
empty room, each of us at opposite ends, standing as far away from each other as possible with the walls slowly caving in, forcing us together. It’s scary as hell, but I think I like it.
Carver and I would be electrifying. Just having his fingers inside of me down in his father’s little dungeon after ending Sam Delacourt was more than mind blowing. Would it be better than what it is with the others? I don’t know but I’m more than willing to find out.
The thought of all the different ways that Carver could get me off start swirling through my mind, and before I know it, that familiar desperation is building within me. My pussy clenches with need, and not being one to skip out on a good opportunity, my gaze shifts up toward the showerhead.
Damnnnn… it would be so easy.
The boys haven’t come to check on me in over an hour, so they’re either busy or just trying to give me a little bit of privacy to shower. Who am I kidding? The boys don’t understand the word privacy. Though, even if I was going to town on myself with the showerhead and they walked in, who cares? It’s not like they’ve never seen me getting off before. If anything, they’d probably sit back and watch. Well, Grayson would. He appreciates art, whereas King and Cruz are all about getting in on the action.
A grin rips across my face. Decision made.
I reach up and unhook the showerhead from its little holder and look over it, seeing that it has a few different settings. I glance over the one labelled as ‘massage’ and quickly push the little button. The water shoots out in a narrow stream and I swear, it even looks as though it’s pulsating.
Well, damn.
My gaze nervously flicks toward the door, making sure that I’m not about to have one of the boys barge in on me. I’m no prude, my bedside drawer is proof of that, but if I’m experimenting with something new, then I like to make sure that I have the hang of it before inviting friends to play.
I turn down the heat, not wanting to burn my kitty and slowly lower the showerhead down my body as an excited thrill shoots through me.
I bite my bottom lip, the anticipation almost too much.
It trails over my ribs, down past my belly button, and then BAM, it hits my clit with a firm, relentless pulsation. I suck in a gasp, my eyes widening in surprise. “Holy fuck.”
Wowza. How have I never tried this before?
I get myself in a better position and instantly start laughing at just how good this is. My eyes roll into the back of my head and my pussy quickly starts begging for a release. It’s so fast and strong. Every nerve in my body is telling me to pull away, to ease up and take my time while my pussy is begging for it hard and fast.
I don’t think I’ve ever experienced something like this. It’s like going from zero to one hundred in a flick of a finger. Hell, screw hiding this from the boys. This thing is a party trick. I need to get them up here stat and show them just how magical this thing is.
Who would have ever known that I’d become instant best friends with a showerhead?
The water pulsates over my clit, relentlessly forcing my pussy into submission. I fall back against the wall, unable to hold myself up as I spread my legs as far as I possibly can. My orgasm builds and I know that it will only be a matter of time before it tears through me and shatters me from the inside out.
Hell, I’m going to need a few hours of sleep after this.
The music cuts off and a chilling voice echoes through my bathroom. “Fucking hell. I knew you were a whore, but I never expected this.”
The showerhead drops from my hand, spraying up the side of the shower as my head snaps up, my heart racing for a whole new reason.
Paris Moustaff stands in my bathroom doorway, a knife in her hand and disgust stretched across her face.
I gape, unable to think of what to do. I’m standing here naked as the day I was born with my legs spread, my pussy wound up and right on the edge while the spray from the showerhead is pointed up towards the ceiling and is currently redecorating my bathroom.