Page 128 of Twisted Needs

He finally reaches up to turn the water off, and I let out an immediate sigh of relief. “Referencing Animal Farm just makes this worse,” I tell him.

“How?”

“Because you’re fucking hosing me off!”

“How odd I can have all this inside me and to you it’s just words…”

“Anderson, please.”

“Jesus, Petchka. Relax,” he nags. “All I’m trying to say is…you’re setting a double standard here.”

“You only care so much because you’re the one who gets fucked in the ass.”

“So you admit it’s an ass!”

The moment he rises to his feet, I turn and push him up against the shower wall. He lets out a nervous breath, completely taken off guard. “No,” I mutter slowly, leaning into his ear. My hand drifts down to his crease. I lightly brush my finger over his pucker, it twitching as soon as I make contact. “This is a pussy.”

“Park,” he breathes. His voice weakens immediately.

“My pussy.” I push my middle finger through—his tight, warm walls immediately closing around it. “And God, she’s so fucking tight.”

Anders’ breath hitches. “You’re insane.”

“So insane.” I nip at the shell of his ear. “Did you take care of my special girl for me while I was gone? Hm?”

“Mhm.”

“I sure hope you didn’t touch yourself,” I murmur. “Because you know better.”

“I don’t think I do.”

Something warm pools in my stomach, satisfied and wildly charged with untamed desire. A week of no sex does things to a man… “I should bend you over my knee.”

“I think,” he exhales weakly. “You’re just mad I douched you.”

I lean my forehead against the top of his head and laugh. “I might be mad you douched me.”

He takes a hold of my wrist and turns around. “If you don’t want to do this, then you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s not that,” I shake my head, sliding my hand up his cheek. “It’s just…” I swallow hard.

“What’s wrong?” Anders asks. He brushes his hands up and down my arms.

Somehow, the steam in the shower mixed with the reluctance to admit that I don’t do this often makes this feel absolutely terrifying. Not the act itself, as much as it’s the fact that Anders sees me as this experienced older man who’s completely confident when it comes to intimacy.

Sex is easy. It’s natural. Primal.

Giving myself over to him sickens me from how vulnerable it feels. It’s one thing to be the one who gives it, but being the one who receives—especially in a dynamic like ours—it opens up a part of me that I will never be able to close. I’m letting him in, but I’m also dropping basically my final shield.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I ask him instead.

His expression falls into a sultry gaze, lips sitting at a pout and eyes clouded with desire. He drags his finger aimlessly across my chest. “I wanna know what you taste like, Pet’ka.”

Fuck.

And then he drops back down to his knees and cups my balls. Pleasure immediately prickles through me, running down my spine and spreading like it’s viral.

He dips his head down and sucks my tip into his mouth, warm and wet. His hand shifts up and down my shaft with a rhythmic ease. “Turn around,” he murmurs softly.