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“No you won’t,” he said, almost like a demand. Which shouldn’t have been hot, but totally was. “Take off your clothes,” he demanded, moving to stand.
“I’m good.”
“Take them off or I’m ripping them off, babe, your choice.”
I didn’t doubt him for a minute. And I was wearing my favorite underwear set, so I shrugged out of my clothes, then out of my panties and bra, standing there defiantly with my head up.
And then he did it.
Stripped down bare too.
“Come on,” he said, voice soft, holding a hand out, guiding me over to the tub.
“You’re going to be nice to me now?” I asked as I climbed in after him, feeling him reach for me and pull me against his chest.
“No. Now I start to torture you,” he said, his legs moving up and over mine, pinning them to the sides of the tub, making it impossible for me to even attempt to close them.
“Start?” I asked, hearing the whine in my voice.
“Mmhmm.”
“Then what was that downstairs?”
“A warm-up,” he sold me as his hands started to wander.
And here was the crazy part.
They didn’t wander anywhere inherently sexual. They slid over my arms, my shoulders, down my sides, my knees, the outsides of my thighs, my belly.
All tame, tame places.
And still, he lit a fire inside of me that threatened to engulf me entirely.
Then, when he knew he had me desperate, his palms closed over my heavy-feeling breasts, squeezing, then rolling my hardened nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, until there was no more controlling the whimpers and groans as they worked their way through my system.
“Remy…” I whimpered as both his hands flattened and pressed down my belly then started to, like, massage my lower stomach which—as his palms dug in a bit—created this new, almost overwhelming sensation deep in my core.
“No,” he said, his lips on my temple. “Not yet,” he added at my whimper.
His hands moved down my thighs next, completely ignoring the way my hips were writhing in desperation until I dared to let my own hand try to slide between.
Then he reached out, grabbing both my wrists, then catching them in one of his big hands, and putting his other between my thighs instead.
Circling, moving up and down, but never coming anywhere close to touching me how we both knew I needed to be touched right then.
“Please,” I whimpered, rocking against his touch.
“No,” he said, voice soft.
I don’t know if I was just more powerful in my desperation right then, or if I simply caught him off guard, but my whole body yanked free of his at once, making the water slosh up around us and over the sides of the tub, splashing onto the floor as I whipped around, pressing my knees to either side of Remy’s body, then lowering down, feeling his hard cock press against my cleft.
“Go ahead,” he said, voice a little tight as I started to grind against him. “But you’re not going to be allowed to come,” he warned me as his hands went to my thighs, holding on as I ground down on him.
“I need you inside me,” I whimpered as I leaned close to his ear. “Please,” I added when he had no reaction to that save for his fingers digging harder into my hips. Grinding down harder on him, I admitted the truth, “It hurts,” I told him, hearing a rumble move through his chest as his hips bucked against me.
“Good,” he said, making the disappointment flood my body, knowing nothing was working. “Then you are close to where I told you you need to be.”
His foot moved out, kicking the drain, and we sat there, cold and wet and both damn near trembling with need as the water disappeared around us.
