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Maybe it was the way his voice rasped in her ear, hoarse with need. Or how he interspersed words with action, his hands and lips discovering every sensitive spot on her upper body and lingering over each of them, whipping her senses into an inferno of burning need.
She was panting and arching against him when he finally left her breasts and skated lower. He took his time, smoothing his hands over her stomach and tracing the dip of her waist before his fingers pushed between her thighs, urging them apart. “Open up for me, sweetness.”
“What—?” she gasped. He wasn’t seriously thinking about screwing her in the cramped confines of his shower stall, was he?
How would that even work when he barely had enough room to get his arms around her?
I’m up for it if he is.The thought made her giggle, because the pressure against her backside informed her he was definitely up foranythingright now.
Then she felt the teasing stroke of his fingertip against her folds. When he brushed over her clit and circled it, Summer was ready to come on the spot. She heard herself make a noise somewhere between a cry and a whimper.
“Yeah, that’s what I want to hear,” Brock said. “I want you to come on my hand.”
He stroked her again. Simultaneously, the fingers of his other hand pinched her nipple. He bit the side of her neck.
Summer moaned. Loudly.
“Oh, yeah. Just like that,” Brock encouraged her.
He kept torturing her breast while stroking her. She writhed against the hard length trapped between them, and he groaned.
“Stop that,” he ordered.
“Why?”
“Because right now, it’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to haul you out of this shower, push you up against the nearest wall and fuck your brains out.”
“That sounds like—oh!—a pretty good plan to me!”
“Don’t worry, it’s on the agenda, but later. Right now, I wanna see and hear you come for me.”
He circled her sensitive bud, teasing it with his fingertip, and she moaned again.
Then he slid his finger inside her. She clenched around him, all heat and slick need. She was so close now. Everything he was doing was driving her crazy in the best possible way.
“Are you ready to come for me, Ms. Fancy Pants?” he ordered.
“Yes,” she panted. “Oh, yes!”
He thrust in and out of her with a quick, steady rhythm, teasing her bud with the heel of his hand on every stroke while continuing to caress her breast with his other hand.
She went up on tiptoes and tilted her hips to give him better access in the tight quarters, letting her head fall back against his shoulder.
Her release gathered rapidly inside her belly, rising like an ocean swell about to crest into a wave. She was panting now, needy whimpers escaping her throat.
“Yeah, just like that,” he urged her. “Let me hear you, Summer.”
The wave surged and broke over her senses with crashing pleasure.
He held her, supporting her as her climax throbbed and pulsed through her in waves, his fingers continuing to move inside her, prolonging her release.
“Holy crap,” she said finally, sagging back against him, feeling utterly boneless. “That was amazing.”
He chuckled, and the vibrations from his chest passed through her skin like a caress. “That’s my girl.”
When she could stand on her own again, she said, “My turn. But first, let me get that soap before it dissolves into nothing.”
She slid out of his embrace and stepped out of the shower. Before bending to retrieve the soap, she took a moment to admire his muscled chest with its furring of dark hair, sculpted torso, and the magnificent cock jutting out from the dark thatch at his groin.
