Page 116 of None Of Your Business

His cock is rock-hard, thick, and heavy against his stomach.

“Rowan,” Hudson rasps, as I slowly drop to my knees.

I wrap my hand around the base of his shaft and pull him into my mouth.

A low, violent curse rips from his throat. His palm slams against the shower wall to brace himself as the other hand tangles deep into my wet hair. The muscles in his thighs and abdomen go rigid beneath my hands.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hips giving an involuntary twitch forward.

I swirl my tongue around the slick tip before sliding him deeper, sucking him in as far as my throat will allow.

“Rowan… Christ.”

His fingers tighten in my hair, not pulling me away, but holding me right there as he begins to roll his hips in small thrusts into my mouth. I hollow my cheeks, swirling my tongue over the sensitive underside of his head while my hand strokes the rest of him.

I stroke him faster, taking him deeper, letting him feel every bit of the overwhelming feeling that drove me into this shower.

His hand in my hair tightens, guiding my movement as his breathing turns into shallow, ragged gasps.

“Rowan, stop—” he groans, his body going taut as a wire. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come in your mouth.”

I look up through the water dripping into my eyes, my lips still wrapped tight around him, and give him a slow, deliberate suction that sends a shudder straight through his massive frame.

“Rowan—fuck!”

His palm slams against the tile above my head, his fingers tangling wildly into my wet hair. He can’t stop his hips from bucking forward, driving deep into my throat as he loses control completely. A low, guttural groan rips out of him, his body shuddering violently as he comes hard in my mouth. Hot pulses stream against my tongue, and I swallow every drop, keeping the suction tight until the final tremor wracks through his frame.

He stands there for a beat, chest heaving, water cascading over his broad shoulders as he catches his breath. Then he grips my arms and hauls me up off the floor.

He turns me around under the warm spray. Reaching for the bottle on the ledge, he lathers shampoo between his palms and works it gently through my hair, his long fingers massaging my scalp with practiced ease. The tension leaves my neck as his hands move down, slick with soap, gliding over the curve of my shoulders and down my spine.

He slides his hands forward, cupping my breasts from behind. His thumbs circle my nipples, pinching them lightly until they harden under the warm water, sending a quick spark of heat straight to my core. I lean back against his chest, my breath hitching as his hands continue their slow, possessive roam over my stomach and the flared curve of my hips.

He turns me back to face him, stepping in close and pinning me gently against the tile. He plants one hand beside my head, his eyes fixed on mine as my breathing shallows.

“Spread your legs for me.”

I open my thighs, resting one heel back against the wall to take the pressure off my hip.

His thumb finds my clit, circling it with a pressure that makes my knees buckle.

He slides two fingers deep inside me, stretching me wide, and begins a fast, relentless rhythm.

“Hudson,” I plead, my hands scrambling for purchase on his wet shoulders.

“Not yet.”

As my body starts to tremble around his fingers, he intentionally slows the strokes. He pulls almost all the way out, then glides back in with excruciating slowness.

“You like that?” he whispers, leaning down until his lips brush the sensitive shell of my ear. “You like being teased after what you just did to me?”

I can hardly breathe, let alone answer him.

“You have no idea how good you feel right now. So wet. Tightening around my fingers every time I touch you.”

A white-hot spark shoots straight to my core.

“Oh, God.”