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"You're so wet," his voice rumbled, sending a shiver through my belly, making my sex clench tight around his fingers.
"I want you," my voice whined, my hips working in impatient circles.
"Want you too, sweetheart. But we can't," he told me, easing the sting of the disappointment the words brought on by turning his fingers inside me, stroking them over my top wall. "Not yet," he added, pressing his cheek to my forehead as his fingers got more insistent, harder, faster, making thoughts of anything except the impending orgasm fly out of my head as my whimpers became moans, as my arms pulled harder against his neck and shoulders as my legs started to lose their strength.
"Come for me," he demanded, voice low, husky.
And then I did, the intensity making my body fold forward into myself, bringing him with me, curling over my back, holding me up as the waves crashed.
"Let me turn," I demanded a long moment later, my body humming with contentedness.
My arms fell as his hold loosened slightly, helping me turn slowly, careful not to whack my cast off the hard wall as I did so. My arms went up and wound around him again, pulling him down, sealing my lips over his. His arms, already tight, became crushing as his lips pressed harder into mine. Hungry. There was no denying it. As sure as his hardness still pressing into my pelvis, wanting completion.
One of my hands released his neck, sliding down, finding the soap still nestled in one of his hands, taking it, running it over his shoulders, back. Pushing away from him slightly, over his chest, stomach, lower. The soap dropped from my hands, making a clunking noise as it slid and settled near the drain while my hand closed around his cock, stroking him to the hilt, the suds making a smooth glide that had him hissing, his eyes closing on a groan.
But it was only maybe three strokes before his hand closed over top of mine, stopping it, pulling it away.
My eyebrows knitted, looking up at him. "Can't hold us both up when you're doing that, Savvs," he told me.
Maybe there was disappointment - on both our sides - but it was a fair argument.
"Okay," he said a moment later once all the soap was off of us, my hair slick with some conditioner I always left in it or else it would be completely unmanageable when it dries. "This is going to be the difficult part," he realized aloud as he turned to back out of the tub, trying to hold onto me while he attempted to towel off with one hand.
"I need one for my hair," I told him when he reached again for the stack of towels.
All ideas of sweet and romantic flowed away as we both tried to work with slick, cold bodies and only three working legs. But after a small struggle, I had a towel on my hair, another wrapped around my body, situated again on the top of the toilet as Kingston finished drying off while I ran a brush through my hair, shivering as the cold ends settled on my bare skin.
When I looked up again, a towel was slung low on his hips, that delicious V of his Adonis belt somehow making me want to lick it. Of all things. But then he was reaching for me, pulling me up, lifting me once again, carrying me through the apartment to place me on the side of the bed.
"I need clothes," I told him when he didn't move to go grab them.
"You don't need them," he informed me, making me turn my head up, finding him grinning down at me.
It was right then that I realized that with the height of his bed, I was in a very interesting position.
Not even second-guessing the idea, my hand reached up for the tuck of his towel, pulling it, letting the material fall down at his feet.
I chanced a quick look upward, watching as confusion turned to heat as my hand closed around him again, stroking him as my head lowered, mouth opening, taking him inside.
His breath hissed out of him as my tongue traced the head before sucking him deep. It got even more unsteady as I worked him with my mouth and hand, driving him upward. His hand sank into my hair, pulling slightly as his hips thrust slightly, making me take him deeper, setting a faster pace.
"Fuck," he hissed, body tensing.
Close.
So close.
My lips closed harder as I took him to the back of my throat, feeling him lose his control, swallowing down his release as his muscles contracted, then relaxed with an exhale.
I released him, giving into the urge to press a soft kiss to the V I had wanted to trace, resting my head against his stomach while he tried to get control of his breathing once again.
