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“You are so infuriating. You ruined everything. You got in my head, and now all I want to do is fuck you senseless. Punish you for making me crave you,” he growls, stepping back a couple of feet when we’re in the bathroom. He eyes me over, and I’m suddenly fully aware of myself and my body. Without his closeness, it’s a stark reminder of my blaring insecurities.
“Shirt off,” he demands.
I jump at the harshness, and I scramble to do so. He has to see it all, to know if this is really what he wants. If in all my nakedness—covered in flaws, imperfections—he can still desire me, lust for me, then maybe I can start to embody that confidence I’ve been praying to one day have…and have so boldly. I lift it slowly, each inch of fabric like a suit of armor that is protecting me from the war all around me. The war with myself and the war I have with the world that made me anything and everything opposite of brave.
I feel it all, each inch of fabric like the loss of my last piece of protection. Once it’s off, I’m bared. All of me and every part of me, especially the parts I dread to ever call beautiful.
He rubs his hands together, licking his bottom lip. “I’m going to have so much fun with your body, puppet.”
I gulp at the hunger so evident on his face that even my loudest insecurities can’t doubt it.
“Where now?” I don’t know what to say or do. I’m at his will.
“Good girl, asking me what to do. I love the idea of controlling you tonight.”
“Then…then do it,” I whisper.
“In the shower, rinse under the water. Take your body wash and clean yourself for me.”
I hesitate for just a moment. But that pause is short-lived, my desire so loud my ears burn from it. My toes curl, and the hair on my head feels hot.
I step in, never breaking eye contact with him. I leave the glass door open, and he starts to take his shirt off. And the image in front of me is better than the fantasy I had in my head all this time. His skin is so golden he must spend a lot of time out in the East Coast sun. His abs are defined, each side meeting at the deep line down his stomach. His pecs are thick, his collarbone contoured in a masculine way, and that’s the best way to describe him. Male and flawless.
We are the flawed and flawless, standing in front of one another.
He shuts the bathroom door so the shower can create steam as he closes me in, pulling the shower door closed as well. Why is he adding the barrier? I reach for the honeysuckle-scented body wash, and I put just a little on my hands and begin to run the soap over my arms first. He watches, not breaking eye contact as his hands work at removing his belt. Biting my lip, I move my hands over my collarbone and neck.
“Breasts, Hanna. Pinch your nipples for me.”
My eyes widen. I’ve never heard a man make crass language and crude actions sound so desirable. I’m teetering on the line of wanting to do this without pause all while hesitating to give into it. No matter the arousal, I still have insecurities.
Slowly, I do as he ordered. My nipples are peaked, and my body thrums to life. Hungry with desire for his touch, for the pleasure I pray he is going to finally give me.
“Just like that, baby girl. So fucking good. Stroke between your legs.” He has this raw look in his eyes, like a rabid animal loose from his confines. It’s hard to look away and even harder to say no when he traps me with that look. It’s like he’s tethered to me, controlling each move.
Slowly, slipping my hand down my curves, each indent, jagged edge, and all, I reach between my legs and rub my clit, immediately crying out. And right as I do this, he releases his cock from his pants. It’s large, curved, and nearly hitting his navel. And God is he thick. I can feel the sting of him entering me already, but that sting can’t overshadow how pleasurable it will feel. I just know it.
“Eyes on me. Work your clit until you come. You break eye contact with me and I will make you do it again before I give you my cock. I mean it.”
I nod and start circling faster, the pleasure intensifying. I’m overcome with all the sensations. The small part of me with a million nerves igniting is too much, and when he bites his lip and squeezes his cock, I orgasm, throwing my head back. It lasts forever, dragging on and on until I can’t take it anymore and it becomes overly sensitive. I roll my head forward when I hear him speak.
