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He placed another kiss on my back, wiping with the washcloth as he traced a path from one shoulder blade to another. Oh god. I was melting into the water. How long had it been since I’d been handled so tenderly?
“It’s getting a little chilly out here,” Dominic whispered, pressing his mouth behind my left ear. “May I join you?”
It’s happening! Breathe. I scooted forward in the tub to make room for him behind me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him drop his towel, and I glimpsed a thatch of short dark hair, a semi-aroused penis, a nice one. He stepped into the water, his knees bracketing my hips as he lowered himself in. He gently pulled my torso back against his warm chest. I could feel his erection against my lower back, getting harder as his hands moved from my shoulder caps down my front. My own hands still covered my wet breasts, and he curled his fingers around my wrists.
“Let me,” he said, coaxing my hands apart.
“Let you what?” I asked, stifling a nervous giggle. You are forty-one. You mustn’t giggle.
“It’s time to surrender, Solange. Just … let me.”
After a brief hesitation, my arms went slack, and he … well, he unwrapped me, opening one then the other arm, placing them around the outside of his strong thighs. It was fascinating, an experience that I was both enjoying and observing. He trailed his hands up my smooth arms to my shoulders and then down again, this time cupping both breasts, now slick and wet and bobbing out of the soapy water. I watched him circle my nipples with his thumbs, sending a sharp bolt of arousal straight behind my belly button. I inhaled quickly, pressing back into his torso, his erection now fierce against my spine, my head tucked under his slightly stubbly chin. I was careful to keep my hair dry. I was game for a lot of things, but getting my hair wet was a no-no. My hands curled around his as they kneaded my breasts, his thighs firm against the outside of mine. I swear it was like being held between two tree trunks.
“Mmm …” I said, my eyes closing as his hands loosened around my breasts, then slid down between my legs, plunging under the water. Would he be able to tell how wet I was? He let his fingers gather and tug my short hairs and it was all I could do not to scoop out of the water to give him easier access. I was so turned on by then, I was pressing him back into the tub. I wanted him. I let my arms drift up and wrap around the back of his neck as he teased and tickled me, both of his hands now spreading my thighs as wide as they would go against the sides of the tub.
As his fingers traveled along my folds, he sunk his mouth into my neck, his lips covering his teeth, sucking, kissing my skin hard. I felt devoured as two fingers slipped between the most tender parts of my flesh, then inside.
“Ohh,” I said, my back arching, the water between our torsos gently slapping. I raked my fingers through his thick black hair. His other hand massaged up my side, cupping my breast again, this time harder, more urgently, as his other hand worked me, his fingers thrusting a little deeper now, a little faster. He would stop and circle as I engorged under his touch. His other hand moved from my breast and cupped me under my chin, turning my head slightly so his tongue could tease my ear. He was moving me this way and that and I had completely surrendered to him. Then he stopped what he was doing, shifting away from me, leaving one hand reassuringly on my back. I looked over as he pulled out a condom packet from beneath a stack of washcloths, ripped it open, then slid it over his hard cock.
“Turn around, Solange, so I can look at you when I fuck you,” he whispered.
With strength that surprised me, he lifted me out of the water and flipped me around, his magnificent erection just below me. I took a hand to guide him deep inside, sighing as he entered and pulled me in tight to him, holding me there as I felt him pulse deep inside of me, my legs wrapped around him. It was an exquisite sensation. Then he began to rock beneath me, his arms around my waist.
“Lean back on your hands,” he said. “I want you to watch me fuck you.”
I did so, both of us fixated on his cock easing in and out of me, slowly at first, the water lapping against the sides of the wide tub. His fingers had only to grace my clitoris, which was so fat I knew I could come like that.
“Mmm,” I said involuntarily, one of my hands grabbing onto his shoulder, the other holding the side of the tub until I could find and match his rhythm. His dark eyes on me were too much to bear. I threw my head back and squeezed my eyes shut. I cannot believe this is happening to me, here, in my own tub!
“Oh, Solange … you are so fucking gorgeous,” he moaned, thrusting into me, his thumb circling my clit, the muscles in his upper arm flinching with precise effort. We were splashing bubbly water between us and over the sides, extinguishing a tea candle, then another one. Then, leaning forward to cup the back of my neck, he placed his lush mouth next to my ear.
“Come for me, Solange,” he whispered. “I want you to come. For me …”
Then I felt it—my tense core melting, giving way. My legs braced the sides of the tub as it rippled out from my center through to the tips of my limbs. I fell back onto my hands, his gaze now ardent. He continued to push his cock up and into me, fucking me hard, while gently massaging my clit, a masterful combination that finally made the ache all too much to bear and suddenly I was letting go, I let it all go, and I came hard and fiercely, his pumping still relentless, as I moaned into the ceiling (Oh yes, oh yes …) and he came then too (Yeah, oh god!), his whole body emptying into mine, and no one could hear us with the windows closed, not the neighbors out back on the other side of the pine trees, not the ones across the street washing their cars, not the pedestrians walking their dogs past my cozy house on State.
Gasping and spent, I fell forward, draping my wet body over his torso, my arms dangling over his back, pulling in breath l
ike a drowning victim. He wrapped me in a tight embrace, kissing my shoulder cap. We stayed tied in that damp knot for a few moments until my breathing subsided and the water began to cool. Then he carefully peeled himself away from me and stood up in the bath, water rivulets dripping down his magnificent thighs. He stepped out of the tub and unhooked my robe from the back of the door, hanging it from his fingers, inviting me in.
“Madame, your robe,” he said.
I stood up, feeling dizzy, a bit sheepish, happy.
I stepped onto the bath mat and turned around, putting my hands through the robe’s arms. He enveloped me with it and did the sash up from behind, rubbing my arms and sides vigorously to dry me.
“Thank you.” Was that a silly thing to say?
As he bent to wrap a towel around himself, he said, “Check the pocket, Solange.”
I reached inside and pulled out a small purple box. Inside was my first charm, a golden raindrop in the center of a puffy cloud. Surrender was spelled out in cursive on one side, a Roman numeral one on the other. It was just like the ones on Matilda’s bracelet, and on all the bracelets the women at the Mansion had worn that day.
“Would you mind?” I said, handing him the charm. My heart was pounding.
“Of course,” he said, his talented fingers easily securing the charm to the chain.
I walked over to the vanity to get a look at it in the mirror.
“It’s lovely,” I said, dangling it in front of my eyes.
