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“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Umm.” Clearly orgasms highlighted a blatant need for me to expand my vocabulary. “What?”
He set his burden onto the bench next to me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just came in and”—hell, if his cheeks didn’t go a little pink—“ateyou, baby. I didn’t even ask—”
My words came back. “Thank fuck.”
He reared back slightly, blinking once. Twice. “What?”
I sat up, touched his forearm, and the words kept coming. “You just fulfilled one of my biggest fantasies, honey. I’m not going to complain.”
His brows lifted.
I gave him more. “You walking in on me in that shower,” I murmured. “Seeing me. Not being able to resist the vision of me naked and wet—”
He jerked, a groan bubbling up in his throat.
My eyes—I couldn’t help it, okay?—slid down, saw that he was sporting serious tent-age.
So, I kept going.
“You seeing me and dropping everything, coming straight to me, not able to resist, not thinking, not stopping, coming in with your clothes on and just…going down on me?” My lips curved when his eyes heated further. “Yeah, honey. I’ve thought of that pretty much every time I’ve showered here. Wanted you to come in and see me and—”
Before I could blink, he was in front of me again, on his knees, palms scorching through the material of my sweats. “What else have you thought about?”
“So, so much.” I inhaled, but only after I processed that the words hadn’t just existed in my head.
“Tell me.”
A command.
I shivered.
And I gave him the rest.
“You’d see me, want me, but I wouldn’t come.” I shot him a smile. “So, you’d coax me out of the warm water with all sorts of naughty promises. But”—I lowered my voice to a whisper—“I wouldn’t come out until you promised to lick me and then”—I nodded to the bench where I was sitting—“you’d bend me over and fuck me from behind.”
His fingers convulsed.
“Or sometimes I would give into your coaxing, and you lick me and then I’d climb on top, take you inside, and grind you until you lost patience and took over.”
Nostrils flaring on an inhale, he rasped out. “Baby.”
“Or maybe you’d strip down and join me under the stream, spin me around, hold me against the wall and tease me by just washing my hair.” My lips turned up. “Of course, that would be followed by you licking me and then fucking me.”
“Billie Rose.”
“Oryou’d get naked and walk into in the water, holding me in place, ordering me to keep still as you touched me everywhere, before you fucked me with your fingers and tongue.”
His dick twitched beneath that thin strip of cotton.
I saw it. My mouth watered for it.
“Or,” I whispered, “you’d get naked and come into the water and you’d flip me around, pinning my front against the wall. I’d feel the cold, but only for a few seconds before you tugged my hips back, angling me so you could fuck my ass.”
Those fingers on my thighs convulsed so fiercely that it hurt.
But in a good way, that perfect mix of rough and not that had me going wet all over again.
