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Who didn’t want sexual rewards?
I willingly let the compelling note that was buried in his voice pull me down the rabbit hole. That easily, I felt my hesitance and awkwardness drain away. I naturally fell into that mental space where safety and arousal merged.
His eyes went hooded, burning with approval. “That’s a good girl. Let everything else go.”
I carried on applying my conditioner, my skin hot from not only the water and steamy air but the way he lazily drifted his gaze over me, blatant avarice aflame there. Being the focus of it made me feel … captured. Trapped. Bare. Robbed of my every defense.
My pulse lost its rhythm. My mouth went dry. My nipples started to throb.
More, anticipation crawled over and through me, filling every last crevice. The atmosphere in the stall went from thick and warm to oppressively electric.
As I rinsed the conditioner from my hair, my attention fell on his cock—so thick and hard. I wanted it. Wanted it filling me, taking me, possessing me. Wanted the friction, the fire, and the bliss that would follow.
God, the sexual tension was almost painful.
“Get over here,” he said, his voice dropping, thickening, taking on that mesmerizing quality my body never failed to respond to.
My pulse promptly did a hop, skip, and a jump. I padded along the shower mat as I moved to stand between his legs, the tang of excitement sitting on my tongue.
He brushed his knuckles over one puckered nipple. “You get to choose this morning. Do you want to ride me, or do you want to get fucked?”
Both, really. But I’d ridden him in bed last night. And right now, wound tight with need, what I most craved was the sexual roughness in him that often left him balanced on the edge of violence. “I want to get fucked.”
He curled his tongue around a taut bud and sucked hard, wrenching a gasp out of me. “It’ll be hard and fast,” he warned.
“Sounds good.” I loved quickies.
He slowly stood, staring down at me. In a bold and unrushed move, he curved his hand around my throat. There was nothing easy or tentative about his grip. It was firm. Dominant. Entitled.
And my entire being all but melted.
He licked and nibbled at one corner of my mouth as his free hand palmed my pussy. “Are you wet?”
I parted my lips to reply that—“Fuck,” I burst out ashe jammed two fingers inside me.
“Hmm, you are. Good.” His mouth captured mine, and his tongue sank inside. As usual, that mouth of his swept me away. The kiss was a study in sensuality and tightly interwoven with greed and dominance and intent.
My body’s response was instant. It heated, buzzed, charged up—just like the air itself.
I kissed him back, my heart pounding, a shudder of excitement tingling its way up my spine. He didn’t move his fingers, he just kept them where they were even as my pussy squeezed and spasmed around them.
My stomach became a well of activity—fluttering and twisting and flipping. All kinds of inner bells and whistles and fireworks were going off. Feel-good chemicals were dumped in my blood and made my head swim.
He drew back from the kiss, releasing my throat and withdrawing his fingers from my pussy. The shimmer of need in his eyes brightened, intensified, glittered as I sensed his “soft and sensual” energy beginning to give way …
And then it was gone.
He roughly turned us both and backed me into the cold tiled wall. Palms tightly grabbed my ass and lifted me like I weighed nothing.
Looping my legs around him, I gripped his nape with one hand and bunched his hair in the other. My heart beat with an impatient anticipation that made my breathing go to shit.
Dax nudged the broad head of his cock inside me, his lips skimming over my ear. “I’d heard that being a woman’s first can make a man very possessive. Turns out it’s true.” He slammed me down on his cock, the shock of his possession stealing the air from my lungs, making my overstretched walls burn and pulse.
Dear Lord.
“Never liked seeing you with anyone else. And now”—he began to withdraw his cock—“now no other man will ever have you.” He rode me hard, his pace fast and frenzied, his shaft grazing my clit with each thrust.
I tightened my hold on the tufts of his hair, letting out breathy little moans against the lips pressed to mine. The feel of his dick slicing through me over and over, shoving against my tight inner muscles, forcing itself deep … Nothing beat it. Nothing.
