because that motherfucker had found the women. But my goddess snuck out of the house, needing things from her apartment while I was at work, and I followed her, scaring the shit out of her when I came into her place while she was gathering toiletries from her bathroom that she could’ve easily asked me for.
I’d been like a man possessed, the thought of her being taken away from me when she should’ve been safe inside the fortress of my home consuming me, and I’d taken her mouth ferociously, cutting off the sass I haven’t heard in the year since. I miss that sass. Don’t know where it went, chalking it up to more PTSD once her sister had been kidnapped and tortured.
But I push those darker thoughts out of my mind and focus on something much more pleasurable. The way my body could surround her like a bear, wrapping her entire feminine form up while I locked her in place to have my way with her mouth, plunging my tongue inside and tasting her. Those full, lush lips turning red from the brush of my beard and the ferocity of my lips, the nibbling of my teeth before I soothed it with my tongue.
And as I remember that sweet, sweet moan of submission, and the feel of her hands lifting to sink deep into my hair just above my neck, my cock swells in my hand as I give it three more pumps, and I shudder as I come, my head falling back on my shoulders, the rain shower trickling over my face.
When the world stops spinning and my breath returns to normal, I soap up and turn the dial to the waterfall setting, rinsing off in a matter of seconds, and then shut it completely off. I step out of the glass enclosure and pull the towel off the warmer, shaking it open and lifting it to my head to dry off my face and hair. I breathe it in, catching the slightest trace of Astrid’s scent, as if she’d held the folded towel to her body as she carried it up the stairs from the laundry room. I growl as I grow instantly hard again, frustrated over not being able to take her the way I so desperately want, so needy for her that my hand does nothing to slake the desire she incites in me.
I finish drying off and head into my walk-in closet, circling the island in the center that holds all my ties, watches, cufflinks, and such, and approach the wide wall of drawers. I open the one holding my underwear and slip on a pair of black boxer briefs, adjusting my cock so the elastic holds it flush to my front. I pull out a pair of thin cotton pajama pants and tug them on, making sure Astrid won’t see the raging hard-on I’m still sporting that I’m sure won’t be going away anytime soon if I’m going to spend time next to her on the couch. I pull out a white tee, gripping it in my hand as I close the drawer more aggressively than I need to, but it doesn’t make a loud sound because the hydraulics catch it just in time.
Suddenly anxious to get downstairs, I leave the closet and my room, galloping down the steps still bare-chested, and enter the living room, seeing her curled up at the end of the couch with the remote aimed at the TV. Her eyes turn to me, and her lips part, her gaze going to my chest and lower. I glance down to make sure my dick is still secure, and seeing it is, I take the bottom hem of the tee and pop the white cotton in the air before me to loosen the tight fold, pushing my arms through the shorts sleeves, then pulling it over my head. I meet her eyes again as I tug the tight material down my chest and over my abs until the hem rests a little more loosely around my hips.
She must realize she’s staring, because she snaps her mouth shut and whips her eyes back to the TV, clearing her throat. I force myself not to smirk as I sit down next to her, far enough away not to crowd her, but close enough I can still feel her body heat radiating off her legs she’s got pulled up beneath her. She changed while I was in the shower, and her long, smooth