The Nightmare (The Mist #2) - Regine Abel Page 0,51
even smoother. I had never felt such an intense pleasure simply from touch. The thought of Naima’s hand on me instead of my own had me so hard my stomach cramped painfully with need.
I hadn't meant to pleasure myself, but I simply couldn’t stop.
Naima’s face floated before my mind’s eye while a pool of lava swirled in the pit of my stomach. A burning fire spread throughout my nether region. My abdominal muscles contracted spasmodically, and my skin became feverish. The water on my skin felt like a million tiny kisses, and the gentle caress of my woman. I came with a sharp shout, followed by a rumbling groan as my mortal seed shot out in blissful spurts. My legs shook, and I had to rest one palm against the textured white tiles of the shower for support. I continued to caress myself until the last of my seed was spent, slowing down the movement, and tightening my grip with each stroke to squeeze out every drop. It slightly hurt but in the most wondrous way.
Yet, even as I had just found release, a part of me wanted another round, but this time with my mate. I'd always known myself to be insatiable. It pleased me to see this body also possessed a healthy appetite. Pushing down those thoughts to the back of my mind, I made quick work of finishing my shower and of drying myself.
I had no idea how much time had gone by since I'd started, but I suspected that my mate knew what I'd been up to. She had probably heard it, too. If so, what thoughts had crossed her mind? Had she been aroused? Had she regretted not staying to bear witness and savor the view of what was hers, and what would soon be inside of her? Had she fantasized about what our first time together would be?
I picked up the pajamas she had brought me. With a slight annoyance, I slipped on the underwear first and then the pajama pants. I eyed the top and decided to rebel. My ‘modesty’—which was frankly quite nonexistent—was sufficiently covered. Pushing the door open, I stepped back into my room and found Naima sitting at the edge of her desk outside the glassed-in section that constituted my quarters.
An unreadable expression lingered on her face as she observed me. I had expected some sort of comment for the absence of a shirt, but she didn't seem upset or displeased in any way.
“Antiperspirant?” she asked as sole comment.
I rolled my eyes in annoyance, having forgotten about that step. Turning on my heels, I went back inside the bathroom and took care of it. To my surprise, rather than waiting for me outside, Naima walked into the bathroom, slightly pushed me aside, and then opened the bottom drawer of the vanity. She pulled out a device that looks like a strange gun, although I knew it not to be. She plugged it into the wall then sat on top of the counter before gesturing for me to approach.
Intrigued, I complied.
“You should not go to bed with your hair wet. You'll find it mightily uncomfortable,” my mate said.
She spread her legs so that I could stand between them. I eagerly did just that before resting my hands on her thighs. Naima gave me a warning glance. I smirked, biting back the taunting remark that burned my tongue. This was the first time she was voluntarily initiating such proximity between us and choosing to touch me. I wouldn't risk alienating her.
The loud noise of the device startled me as it began blowing hot air.
“This is a blow dryer,” Naima explained, holding it up for me to see. “It takes care of that problem in no time at all. Turn around.”
My eyebrows shot up, but she held my gaze, a smug smile on her plump, kissable lips telling me to comply. I grimaced and once more obeyed. The feel of her soft hand on my bare shoulder guiding me back closer to her had my abdominal muscles contracting with pleasure.
Picking up the comb on the counter, Naima proceeded to dry my hair. It meant something that she was doing it herself rather than merely showing me how to do it on my own. I couldn't say what though. A part of me believed it was my woman’s need to touch me that had finally gotten the best of her. Another thought it was her nurturing nature expressing itself. In the end, I believed