Page 155 of The Substitute Fiancée

52. The aftermath

Alexander

After Sam’s jury review, I decide not to return to the office. She’s exhausted, emotionally drained. The interview was tense. The jury revealed nothing. Impossible to know if she passed or failed.

I take her home. She needs to relax and we need time for ourselves.

The hot shower water does us good. Her shoulders relax imperceptibly.

“Let me take care of you,” I tell her.

I grab the shampoo and pour it into my hand before lathering her hair. My hands gently massage her scalp. She closes her eyes and enjoys the moment. Despite my good intentions, her moans of pleasure immediately make the lower part of my anatomy react.

“Thank you for being there,” she breathes softly, completely unaware of the desire she provokes.

“There’s nowhere else I would have wanted to be,” I respond while carefully rinsing her hair.

Then I continue my ministrations, moving down to her shoulders which I massage gently. She surrenders to me, completely trusting. The tips of her magnificent breasts point toward me as my soapy hands gently caress them. The soap sliding on her skin multiplies my sensations tenfold, it’s extremely erotic. Their softness and firmness are addictive. I could never get enough.

“I think they’re clean now,” she says with a mocking smile.

“Let me verify,” I reply playfully, leaning down to take a pink nipple in my mouth.

It tastes exquisite. Sam arches against me and her belly meets my erection. She rubs against it eagerly while I try to concentrate on my feast. I gently pull on the hardened peak, pinch it and suck it avidly. Sam’s body presses fiercely against mine, trapping my hard cock between us. I taste one breast then the other before releasing them with regret to refocus on my task. I continue soaping her belly and thighs. I crouch down to soap her legs and feet. My face is so close to her mound that she can feel my breath on her skin.

Her breathing becomes erratic.

Taking intimate soap, I slide my fingers into her folds and soap them gently. She protests when I withdraw my fingers. The water soon erases all trace of soap, but I’m not done with her.

I place a kiss on her vulva. She trembles with desire, her hands resting on my head, as if not wanting to miss what I’m about to do.

My lips press against her pussy and my tongue finds her folds, caresses and devours them eagerly. She presses her pubis against my face. My hands tighten around her firm ass. My mouth claims her clit, delights in it and sucks it until Sam becomes incoherent in my arms, her body writhing with too violent pleasure.

“Yes, that’s it, beautiful. Come for me.”

When she comes down from the haze of her orgasm, my tongue plunges into her to lick every drop of her pleasure.

She’s still panting when I turn her around and wash her other side. My soapy fingers glide over her magnificent legs and sublime ass, which I kiss with devotion, then I straighten up, soap her back and shoulders. She arches against me, seeking my rigid member. I let her and press myself against her. I want her to feel how crazy with desire she makes me.

“Stop playing with me,” she says, her voice hoarse.

“Tell me what you want,” I demand.

“Take me, I want to feel you inside me.”

I don’t need to be told twice. I turn off the water and dry us quickly before guiding her to a dry area. Guessing my intentions, her hands press against the wall and her body leans forward, her ass slightly raised and exposed to my view. Fuck, she’s hot. My hand guides my erection to her entrance, wet with desire. I slip in slowly, my gaze locked on her face. Her lips part in anticipation. I sink into her in one long thrust. Her sweet sheath sucks me in as we both moan with pleasure.

“You take me so well,” I breathe in her ear before withdrawing almost completely.

Then I sink into her again to my full length. She releases a moan of agony and pleasure. My hands close on her hips and, withdrawing again, I impale her again and again with deliberate slowness.

“Yes like that,” she moans. “I feel you so well.”

I continue my thrusts.

“You’re made for me,” I whisper before changing rhythm.

My thrusts accelerate. The slapping of our skin is so erotic. We’re nothing but desire and sensation. I wrap my torso around her, my face nestles in the hollow of her neck. One of my hands grabs her breast while the other presses against the wall to better stabilize us.