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He dropped his joggers and pulled his shirt off in that sexy way that men did—by grabbing it from behind his head and tugging it over. “Now, I’m not.”
I couldn’t stop staring atit. There was no way that thing was going inside me without some serious effort. Or a hell of a lot of lubrication.
“If you make me ask you again, I’m going to spank you.”
My mouth opened in shock. I’d never known Saint to talk this way, and I wasn’t sure if I was turned on or a little scared. It might have been a combination of both. In order to avoid the spanking, not knowing if I’d enjoy it or not, I stepped out of my flimsy skirt and removed the top that I’d unbuttoned earlier. I was in nothing but a lace bra as Saint stepped toward me, his hardness poking me in the leg.
He reached around my back with both hands, and I felt the pressure release as he dropped my bra to the ground, setting my girls free. Before I could even move, he fell to his knees and started kissing me in places I hadn’t been prepared for.
Tugging at his shoulders so he’d stop doing that and stand up, I called his name. “I need a shower too. I’ve been sweating all day, and, well, I don’t want to smell like sweat.”
Saint made me nervous. This was our first time being together, and the last thing I wanted was for my private parts to be a mixture of sweat and whatever else it naturally smelled like. It didn’t seem like a stellar first impression if he threw his face down there.
Me, on the other hand? I couldn’t have cared less what his giant dick smelled like. I was more concerned that I wouldn’t be able to put it in my mouth, let alone anywhere else. Of course, a guy like Saint would be blessed in every area, making him even more damn alluring.
He reached for my hand, interlacing our fingers, and walked us toward the bathroom. I loved that he knew exactly where he was going even though he’d only been here a handful of times since I’d moved in. Usually, I would have been a little more self-conscious and aware of the lighting as I wandered around the halls, buck naked, but this was Saint we were talking about. I couldn’t hide anything from him.
The water turned on, and I watched as he slipped his hand underneath the showerhead before adjusting the nozzle a little to the left for more heat. When he faced me, his fingertips skimmed down the side of my body, tracing my curves as his eyes stayed locked on my own. As a teenager, that had always made me frustrated, but tonight, it made me feel special.
“You are so damn beautiful,” he said before adding, “it hurts.”
I almost passed out with the weight of his compliment. No one had ever looked at me the way Saint currently was. And no man had ever said that kind of thing and meant it before. Drunk guys in bars excluded.
He removed his hand from my hip and tested the water one last time before stepping inside and reaching for me. The spray hit my hair, and I realized that I was going to have to wash it now that it was getting wet.
Saint grabbed my purple loofah and searched for which bottle was the soap before pouring a ridiculous amount onto it. I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped from between my lips.
“You’re laughing at me?” he asked, both dimples showing.
“That was so much soap.” I pointed at it, and he simply shrugged.
“I don’t have one of these things at my house. And I use bar soap. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” he admitted, and the charm seemed to ooze out of every pore.
“It’s adorable,” I said before giving him a kiss.
His lips were soaked from the water, and I liked the way it made them slippery. Snaking my tongue out of my mouth, I ran it along his bottom lip, and he groaned in response, his arm reaching out and pressing against the wall for balance.
“Wasn’t expecting that,” he breathed out, his eyes pressing shut before he reopened them.
The feel of the loofah surprised me at first, and I flinched before he started soaping me up. Saint moved slowly, his eyes following each and every move of his hands. A trail of suds went from my left breast to my hip, and his gaze was penetrating. I couldfeelhim looking at me.
“Put your foot here,” he directed, and I rested my heel on his thigh muscle.
Saint washed my feet and in between my toes before he lathered up his hands instead of the loofah and moved up my leg, toward my inner thigh.
My foot fell, and I was grateful that I didn’t collapse altogether. “I need both feet on the floor,” I said, and he grinned at that, clearly liking the effect he had on me.
His hand was between my legs, lathering up my most sensitive area before moving to my ass and cleaning me there as well. When I tilted my head up to look at him, he was licking his lips, his dark, wet hair falling into his eyes. He stepped away from the spray of the water, letting it hit me, and I watched as the soap bubbles drifted away.
“I think you’re clean now,” he said before dropping to his knees without warning.
I’d stopped him earlier, afraid I might be sweaty down there, but now, I had no excuse.
His tongue lashed out, hitting my clit before taking all of me in one languid sweep. If I’d thought I might pass out before, it was nothing compared to how I was feeling now.
“Ivy,” Saint growled against me, his breath hot as droplets of water continued to fall between us, “you taste so good.”
My hand fisted his wet hair as he licked me again. And again.
