“Do you like driving me crazy?” I breathe, desire building at the base of my spine as she wraps her hand around me, slowly pumping.
Sofía peers up beneath dark, thick lashes, the corner of her mouth tugging.
“Maybe a little.” Her grip tightens, and then she releases me and grabs the shampoo bottle. “Bend down,” she commands.
“You want to wash my hair?”
My heartbeat elevates to an unnatural rhythm, and I gawk at the bottle between us. She spins me around. Three quick taps hit my ass.
“Bend down, please.”
I chuckle, scrubbing at my jaw. “Right.”
Nerves flutter in my belly as she massages shampoo into my scalp, holding still even when the water sprays into my mouth and the muscles in my legs cramp. I want this to last forever, not the few minutes we have.
She finishes, and I face her, drinking in every inch of her, from the soft lips pulled between her teeth, the deep-brown hair plastered to her face, all the way down to her painted toenails that wiggle beneath the stream.
I gulp when I drag my gaze north and realize she’s watching me admire her. Only after a moment do I recognize she’s doing the same. We trade places, and I clean her hair, gently detangling the strands with my fingers and allowing the conditioner to set.
It’s hard to find words—at least not any she would be comfortable hearing or that I should say. Her hands find my stomach, lathering soap along my skin, and I groan, greedy for the contact. I’ll never get enough of her touch—forever craving more.
I don’t know how I’m going to live without it.
We exit the shower, and what grows in the silence is a comfortable existence. It’s how I imagine a life with someone you love. Joy in the quiet moments. Intimacy without words. Calm, settled, complete.
Sofía is quick to run, wrapping a towel around herself before darting into the main area. Bent over, she digs through her bag, pajamas in her grip when I lift her into the air.
A cacophony of giggles turns into sweet music as I toss her onto the bed and her towel falls open.
“Jett,” she exclaims, my name morphing into a soft moan as I take her nipple into my mouth.
I kiss a path down her skin, chasing every soft moan and mewl, until I’m kneeling between her open legs. She lifts onto her elbows and peers down at me with hooded eyes. She’s patient, waiting for me to make a move, and I let the energy in the air crackle with anticipation.
“Tell me what you want,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh.
She nibbles on her lower lip, and then, in a tiny voice, murmurs, “You.”
The declaration takes root, whether or not she means it, and I ignore the tightness behind my sternum, instead focusing on her, on this moment, not what happens when we leave the continent.
Her back arches when I swirl my tongue around her clit, repeating the motions and movements that brought her to the edge last time. My cock is painfully hard as she squirms, clutching the bedsheets while her orgasm builds.
“Oh,fuck,” she moans, clenching as I slip a finger inside her.
The muscles in her thighs twitch, and I know she’s close, teetering on the edge of bliss. All she needs is a little push. I add a second finger, working in tandem with my tongue until she’s a mess—nothing but soft, breathy moans of my name.
Fuck, do I revel in the way she unravels. I almost want her to call me Ulysses. No one calls me by my legal name, not even my family anymore, but I crave to hear her scream it for me.
Sofía flies off the bed as she shatters apart, her fingers finding the wet strands of my hair, tugging and twisting. My chest heaves with the energy required to keep my orgasm at bay, and I rise to climb on top of her.
“Wow,” she mutters. “Wow.”
She cracks a satisfied eye and wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me in until we’re flush. The evidence of her orgasm coats my erection, and I hiss, dropping my head to her shoulder.
Her chest shakes with laughter as her fingernails drag down my back. “God, this is fun,” she admits.
I lift my head. “As opposed to being boring?”
The rosy tint of her cheeks deepens, spreading to her ears. “Well…sometimes, it can be.”
