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Ransom’s hands are on my body. He takes his time undressing me, stripping away my clothes one piece at a time while he kisses me until I’m senseless. His hands fly nimbly until I’m just standing in my bra and panties.
“How about that shower now?” he asks roughly. My eyes fall to his jeans, which are being strained by a visibly huge bulge.
“Shower. Yes. Perfect.” My brain has switched off. First, my chest was cracked wide open, and all the feelings in the world poured in and out of my heart, and now the shower. Naked.
Naked. Yes, naked.
I want to trace the pattern of Ransom’s tattoos and take my time tasting his ink. I saw it the last time we were together when we went into his bedroom and stripped down for the first time, finally removing all our clothes. I saw the huge stone guardian angel he has on his back and the demons fighting in black and gray on his torso, over his hard pecs and ridged square abs. His body is a homage to artwork of the past, good versus evil. I think, in his way, ink is his therapy. He has two beautiful sleeves, with more Greek and Roman-style gods and myths trickling over his muscles, but his legs are quite different. They’re a mashup of every kind of style, from traditional eagles and ships to more new-age cartoon alien cats. He proudly told me which ones he’d inked on himself, which was fascinating to me.
I can’t get tattooed when I’m pregnant, but after that, I can’t imagine what it will be like to have Ransom’s talented and incredible hands inking my body.
Ransom carts me up, both hands supporting my bottom as he carries me to his small bathroom. The shower isn’t fancy, but it’s separate from the tub and small, which is perfect. I don’t need elbow room, and I very much don’t need any space between our bodies. He cranks on the water and lets me step in first. I have the least amount of clothes to shed, so I do it without a second of hesitation. I love the hum in Ransom’s throat as he appreciates my body. I want to watch him undress, but the shower has a curtain, and if I don’t close it, I’ll probably flood the bathroom.
I let the hot water kiss over my skin, and then, a minute later, Ransom enters, sliding in at my back and wrapping his thickly corded arms around my waist. I clasp his hands, setting mine on top of the inked ones and guiding them up to cup my breasts. I watch everything, the water beading on my skin and the sight of his dark ink against my pale skin. I watch as his other hand leaves my waist and slides through my seam, which is already soaked for him. I watch as he slips two fingers inside me, then watch as he pulls them out, glistening and shiny from my wetness, just to do it again.
I can’t take it. I can’t take watching him do that to me and not being able to touch him, so I curl my fingers over his wrist and pause what he’s doing before I spin around. I slip on the wet plastic shower floor, but his arms snake out to steady me. He would never let me fall. I know that. Never.
His lips crash over mine, kissing me so hard that it’s impossible to breathe. I love the way he tastes, like spice and leather, smoke and man. I rake my hands over his shoulders, my heel coming up to hook behind his knee as I try to climb him. I want him inside me, I want him to consume me, and I want him to take everything I am as he gives me himself in exchange. I grind against him, trying to still the throbbing ache between my legs.
I promised myself that I’d take my time looking at him, but right now, this angle is all wrong. His body is slick from the shower, the water beading prettily over his hard muscles and trickling down over those magical abs to his even more magical Mr. Happy Stick, which is very, very happy to see me. Seeing it look so happy makes me very happy in turn, and now that I’ve noticed, I can’t tear my eyes away from his proud cock, the tip so red and swollen already. I watch in rapt amazement as droplets bead at the tip and leak down the big shaft, completely independent of anything the shower is doing.
I grasp his cock in my hand, smearing that moisture down his length, but instead of tasting him by bringing my fingers to my mouth, I slide down, getting on my knees.
“Fuck…Ayana…” Ransom tries to tug me up, but I swat his hands away.
