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Kassam rumbles with amusement, and nips at my throat. "I should be. I have had a great deal of practice."
All right, I don't want to particularly hear about the man's past when we're making out, so I pat his shoulder, trying to get his attention as he skates up to my ear and sucks on my earlobe. Oh god. Ears are just as good as throat, and if he tongues my ear just right, I'm going to be mauling his cock like a shameless hussy in moments. I gasp when his teeth graze my earlobe— and catch a mouthful of shower water. Right. "Kassam," I pant. "Let's…finish…shower…first." I hammer at his shoulder as his tongue sweeps up the shell of my ear, my pussy clenching in response. "Water…cold."
"Mmm. I suppose I can wait. Not for long, though." He gently sets me back down and I realize dimly that I'm still wearing my sneakers from the bar. Jeans, too. They're both waterlogged and I couldn't give a shit. My shirt's clinging to my breasts, outlining my figure, and I notice Kassam's appreciative gaze goes there. I don't have the greatest face and I'm not all that talented at a lot of stuff, but I've got a great body.
So does Kassam. I run a hand down his wet chest, noticing for the first time that under all that grime and blood, he's got tattoos. There are strange, tribal-looking geometric markings across his pectorals. They sweep across his shoulders and down his arms, before fading into his skin. I find them fascinating, but then again, I find all of him fascinating. I let my fingers trail down his flat abdomen and dip into his navel. His pants are slung below it, waterlogged and barely held up by a bloated leather belt. "Can I…?"
"Do what you like," he murmurs. His hand runs through my hair, wetting it, and he looks as if he wants to kiss me again, his lips parted.
I know if he kisses me again, I'm never going to get these pants off of him, and he needs a full body scrubbing if we're going to do this. "How," I ask, ducking my head when he leans in. "How did you get covered in blood like this?"
His belt doesn't seem to have a buckle, but is knotted instead. I fumble with the knot as he brushes his hand over my breast, thumbing my nipple through the thin fabric of my wet shirt. God, this man does not play fair. "I was stabbed."
"S-stabbed?" I stumble over the word, looking up at him.
"It was a long time ago," he reassures me. "My wound is closed. Let us not talk about it. I would rather focus on more pleasant things…like these pretty breasts."
He gives my nipple the lightest pinch and I moan, because even the smallest touch is utterly unfair. I'm so aroused by him that my pulse feels as if it's set up shop between my thighs, and I know without touching myself that I'm aching and wet. I can feel the lips of my sex gliding against one another as I shift, I'm so very wet and turned on. "Can I just point out everything you say doesn't make sense?"
"It will make sense eventually, I promise you." His mouth curls into a hungry little smile, and his thumb moves over the tip of my nipple again. "Hurry and wash me if you must, because I need you."
Oh fuck. I bite back a whimper and jerk at his belt again. The swollen leather stretches and then breaks, and then his pants slip to the bottom of the tub.
And I'm left staring. And staring.
His cock is…well, it's magnificent. It's not a word I'd normally use to describe a man's penis, but I've seen several penises in my life and not a single one has looked as…perfect as this one. Kassam's dick is something out of a painting, it's so perfect. It's long and thick and smooth, not veiny or overly flushed. The base is framed by a dark swatch of hair that seems to enhance his masculinity, and he's not circumcised. It's my first time dealing with foreskin and I could absolutely not give a fuck. It's just interesting. "Oh…okay. Are you…European?" I curl a hand around the base of his cock, testing his foreskin, and find that it glides over his shaft if I tug on it, and Kassam makes a pleased sound in his throat when I do. "Sorry. I'm not an idiot, it's just my first uncircumcised penis. Tell me if I do something wrong."
"You are doing things very, very right, my little light."
I give another weird, awkward little laugh. "That's kind of an odd nickname, you know. You can just call me Carly."
"Call me whatever you like, as long as you keep touching me," Kassam murmurs, and teases my nipple again.
