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It felt so good to rinse the day off.
A strange feeling swept over me and I opened my eyes, still bent over the sink. My breath caught when my gaze locked on the intense one in the mirror. Eyes nearly the color of the night sky dropped to my back.
Using a single finger, he trailed up the valley of my spine and back down. Then his hands wrapped around my waist and slowly swept up my sides.
Water still dripping from my face, I blindly grabbed a towel to dry it. With the white cloth gripped tightly, I dropped both hands to brace myself. His touch was both sensual and addicting.
Neither of us spoke.
Slow and smooth, he ran his palms over my curves—as if he was memorizing them. My head dropped and my breathing grew ragged when he began to rain kisses up my back. I shivered. When he reached the top, he moved along to my shoulder. As he did, he curled one hand around the front of my throat, gently lifting me up until I rested against him.
Our eyes held in the reflection before us as he licked and kissed up the side of my neck. “You are beautiful,” he whispered in my ear as his free hand cupped my breast over my bra.
I dropped my gaze because I didn’t see what he saw. I saw a stomach that had a slight roll, a few faint stretch marks—everything that seemed glaringly apparent to me.
“Look at me,” he demanded in a sultry whisper.
I tried to avoid my reflected flaws, yet he seemed to notice none of it. Swallowing against his palm, I blinked and did as he said. I knew my pulse was thumping and he felt each savage beat.
As he practically stared into my soul, he lowered his arm until his hand landed on my buckle and he unfastened my belt. The button and zipper were next. With each second that ticked by, my heart raced and need shot through my veins.
His motions unhurried, he dipped into my panties. When his fingertip brushed over my clit a needy little whimper escaped me. The corner of his mouth lifted, revealing his dimple, because he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
“I love how you feel—soft skin, perfect curves.” His finger slipped lower until he teased it through the wetness pooling between my legs. “Mmm, is this for me?”
I gasped as he fought the constricting space of my jeans to move lower. He managed to maneuver the denim down enough to give him room. Then he stroked his middle finger through my slit, pushing in briefly.
“Max,” I breathed, unable to form more words than his name thanks to how muddled he had my head.
“What?” he whispered into the shell of my ear.
“I—” But that was all I could get out.
He chuckled quietly. “Turn around.”
I hated to, because I knew it meant I’d lose that steady sweep of his finger along the sensitive flesh of my pussy. He must’ve read my mind, because he withdrew and I moaned in protest.
“Turn around,” he slowly repeated.
I did, and he dipped his head to kiss me until I was clinging to him. He broke free only to nip along my jaw and down my neck, where he paused and sucked softly on my sensitive skin. With a sharp bite, he seemed to reluctantly release me. Before he stepped back, I felt how affected he was by the kiss.
I wanted that so bad.
Then he pushed my panties down with my jeans and crouched to take one leg out.
“On the counter,” he said as he grabbed my hips, prepared to lift me if I didn’t do as I was told. I wanted to protest—to have him just bend me over the counter.
His pointed look told me he wasn’t playing.
Not wanting the embarrassment if he couldn’t lift me from his position, I hopped up like he instructed.
“Scoot,” he then told me as he gave a slight tug to show me he meant toward him.
I was afraid I’d fall off, but I needn’t have worried. He took my legs and hooked them over his shoulders. When he did, my jeans dropped unceremoniously to the floor.
“I love this too,” he murmured as he stared at the apex of my legs.
My head fell back when he nipped my inner thigh, then kissed it. He repeated those actions until his heated breath feathered over the damp skin of my pussy. Impatient and eager, I clenched in response.
