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“That fucker.”
I try not to wince under his touch, although the spot’s sensitive.
“I’ll be fine.”
The rough pads of his thumbs send a shiver rippling through me, a dull ache throbbing between my thighs. Chill bumps rise on my arms, my belly, as he runs his fingers over my skin.
Bending down, he kisses the bruises. So softly, so gently, just a slight whisper of breath. Wetness pools in my panties, and I wind my arms around his neck, bringing my lips to his.
“Stay,” I murmur, my fingers tracing the sharp hairline at his nape.
He says nothing, his hands cupping my ass and squeezing before he steps back and begins unbuttoning his shirt.
I help him, fingers flying over the plastic buttons. Warm, humid air fills the bathroom, and steam swirls around us. He sheds his shirt, then steps back to take off his pants. I do the same, the denim clinging to my skin. Struggling, I finally manage to peel off the jeans.
Glancing up, I notice the clear outline of his cock in his boxer briefs, and I try not to stare at the large bulge.
“Like what you see?” he teases.
I nod. “Very much.”
He pulls at the waistband of his briefs and his cock springs out. Now he’s fully naked, magnificent, every inch of him solid, rippling muscle. I lick at my lips, fluttery excitement vibrating through me.
Running my hand over his broad chest, I trace the sharp lines of his muscles, the outline of his pecs. Tiptoe my fingers down his abs, counting as I go. One. Two. Three. A perfect six-pack, followed by the sexiest V pointing straight to his dick. I take a quick sip of air, try to remember how to breathe.
King dips down, claiming my mouth. His tongue slips in, exploring. He unclasps my bra, the satin falling away and exposing my breasts. Nipples already sharp peaks, begging to be caressed. He wastes no time, tweaking both of them, pain and pleasure colliding. Wetness gushes into my panties, and I yank them down, eager for his touch.
Cupping my sex, he thumbs at my clit. Hot, swollen, ready for him.
“So wet already. Such an eager girl.” He murmurs into my open mouth, and I sigh into him, leaning against his hard body.
“Come on, baby, let’s clean you up.”
Linking his fingers with mine, he leads me to the shower. Steam billows out when the glass door opens, and I breathe in the hot, humid air. I step in and King follows, closing the door behind him. Now we’re cocooned together, the scent of eucalyptus and tea tree oil rising and tickling my nose.
The warm spray of water hits my shoulders, spilling over my breasts, and my muscles begin to relax and unwind. Everywhere but between my legs, my pussy clenching and releasing, waiting to be filled.
King squirts dark-blue shower gel in his hands, then lathers me up, white bubbles clinging to my arms. Marking me with his scent, claiming me. His fingers move up and down my body—slowly, gently—and he’s especially careful around the bruises. I close my eyes and give in to the sensations. Heat and nerves and desire, water and excitement, mixing together into a tight ball of want.
He keeps washing my body, hands running up and down my sides, over my breasts. Palming the flesh, his thumbs tracing circles round and round, finally homing in on my nipples. A low moan falls from my lips, the sound muffled by his mouth meeting mine. I push my tongue in, droplets of water dripping down my face and into our mouths.
I’m drowning—in this man, this moment—and I don’t even care. This would be a wonderful way to die, truth be told.
King wraps his arms around me, large palms splaying over my ass cheeks. The flesh burns beneath his touch, and I press up against him, his cock dancing on my belly.
“You know how many times I’ve dreamed about fucking you here?” He gazes down at me, water droplets beading in his dark hair.
“No.”
“Too many to count.”
“How’d you do it?” My hand finds his cock, slides up and down the thick shaft. He twitches in my fingers, pulsing.
“Lots of ways.”
“Show me your favorite.”
“You want the rated-R version?”
