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Reminding myself our time was limited, I lowered her leg and dropped to one knee, taking in the sight of her puckered and ready for me.
The second I ran my tongue along her seam, she held the sides of my head in place. “Fuck my face, sweetheart, like you’re riding my cock,” I demanded, wanting to see her wild and free.
She whimpered when I pushed two fingers inside her, then took control, shifting up and down, rubbing against my mouth, hitting her sweet spot just how she liked it. How she needed it. I urged her along with my tongue, coaxing her close to that breaking point. I shifted one palm to her ass cheek, keeping that sexy cunt tight to my mouth so the friction as she moved was more intense for her.
“Jack,” she cried. “Oh my God. Yes, yes.”
I waited a moment for her to climax, for her taste to flood my mouth before adding, “Be a good girl and come for me, Charley.”
Seconds later, she let go of my head and gripped my shoulders, urging me up. Her needy voice was music to my ears. “Now. Fill me now. Please. While I’m still coming.” So. Fucking. Perfect.
I pushed off the floor, bending my knees to get her into position, nudging the head of my cock to her soaked center. She hooked her leg over my hip again, and I slammed into her without hesitation, pinning her to the window.
Holy— Sex bare with her was going to officially do me in. It was too damn good. Eyes-in-the-back-of-the-head, kill-me-now good.
One hand slammed to the window over her shoulder as my other gripped her side to keep her in place while her pussy muscles tightened deliciously around my cock.
With her tits smashed to my chest, water spraying over us, I thrusted in, over and over, never pulling all the way out, not wanting to break our connection. Breathing hard, I did my best to keep my eyes on her, not allowing them to squeeze tight in resistance to not coming too fast. I wanted to stay with her for as long as possible. The team could wait.
Fuuuuckkkk. I cursed again. Maybe out loud, or maybe in my head? Hell if I knew. My ass muscles were squeezed as tight as my teeth were clenched, still refusing to be a one-minute man. Ninetyyyy secondsss, at least. My brain was mush, even my inner thoughts were breathless and spent.
“Holy shi—Jack, you feel so good,” she said while tightening her walls around my dick again. “Oh God, I didn’t know it could feel this good. I’ve never . . . without . . .”
Knowing I was her first bare sent me over the edge. I exploded inside her, my body almost convulsed from coming so hard.
When she finally set her leg down, I slowly stepped back, pushing away from the window as I slid from her warmth. Watching my cum drip down her inner thigh, mixing with the shower water, had me wanting more. I wish we could have a round two right now.
“That was intense,” she panted, leaning against the window for support.
“I’d say so.” I angled my head, trying to process what just happened. “Um, now that you’re good and dirty, I suppose I should clean you up before we get out?”
I had to force myself to rip my eyes away from the masterpiece before me to find the soap. There were what I assumed to be new loofahs hanging on a little hook by the shower handle. Reaching for one, and a bottle of body wash, I squirted the purple liquid onto it.
I wanted to take my time washing her, time I knew we didn’t have. More things to save for later.
She watched me with a sated, but provocative look in her eyes as I knelt before her again. The bandage from her leg was gone, the wound closed. It looked good, but I’d make sure to have Oliver check it later just in case.
Intensely focused on the task at hand, I ran the loofah up the inside of her thigh, cleaning my remaining cum from her skin. When I swiped the loofah across her pussy, she bucked at my touch.
“I’m thinking we’re going to need to go again later,” she murmured, and I looked up at her, probably sporting a goofy, love-drunk smile.
Hell to the motherfucking yes.
“But much slower next time,” I promised, gently massaging her clit to clean her up, never losing her eyes in the process.
She angled her head toward something in the bedroom, and my dick managed to go from lazy to awake damn fast. “Oh really? You want that?” I assumed she was referring to the bedside “jaws of life,” which was going to make me laugh every time I replayed her words. Well, also horny.
“I’m thinking it could be . . . fun?”
I smirked. “Spreading your legs open so I can fuck you with my mouth would most certainly be pleasurable for me,” I rasped the truth, then slowly stood.
I soaped up her breasts next, taking my time on her nipples. We were beyond five minutes. But no one had come knocking yet, and I’d take an extra minute or two if my teammates were going to give it to us.
At the sight of the scar beneath her ribs, I backed up, unable to stop myself from asking, “How’d that happen?” I had scars all over my body. All by-products of the job. No mystery there. But this one bothered me. There was a story behind it, and I had a feeling it’d tamp down my ever-growing erection.
She brought her fingers to the two-inch faded mark. “It happened that night. Brant Luther had smoothed his hand over my dimple, a reminder of my mom. Then he slid the knife over my shirt, cutting me.”
I remembered her flinching when I’d touched her dimple, and now I hated myself for producing that memory for her. My hand went still as I waited for her to continue.
