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I cupped his face in my hands. “I know who you are.”
He searched my eyes for a long moment, then bent down to kiss me again. This time, the kiss was slow and deep, a promise of something more.
He let me wash him, running my soapy hands over his body, his scars. I followed the path of water trickling down. My hands hovered just above his cock. He wasn’t hard, not yet, but he let out a soft moan.
I fell to my knees. “Maybe this will help you forget?”
When I kissed him there, he gasped. “Yes.”
I licked his cock, then sucked it into my mouth. He leaned back against the shower.
His cock swelled inside my mouth while I lavished attention on him with my tongue, until he became so big that I struggled to take all of him. I tasted a hint of salty arousal. I swallowed it down.
My mouth slid off him with a wet pop. I stroked him in my hand to rest my aching jaw. His cock felt like silk over steel. Every inch of him was perfect.
“I didn’t know it could feel this good,” he muttered.
A thrill rushed down my spine. I wanted to make him feel good. I wanted to give him everything.
Determined, I licked the length of his cock and swirled my tongue around his crown. The muscles in his abdomen fluttered as his breathing turned ragged.
His hands tangled in my hair. I pleasured him until his hips started rocking. He moved with only the slightest thrusts, likehe didn’t want to choke me, but he couldn’t stop himself from fucking my mouth.
“Ardis.” He said my name like a curse. “I’m close.”
In response, I sucked on him harder. My pussy ached with every heartbeat, demanding to be fucked, but I focused on his release instead. He needed this from me.
His fingers tightened in my hair, bringing little jolts of pleasure on the brink of pain. A deep, masculine groan escaped his throat.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Shuddering, he reached his climax. His cock jerked inside me while he unloaded spurt after spurt of release and flooded my mouth. I drank it all down.
Panting, trembling, he sagged against the marble.
He helped me to my feet and held me close. The tension in his body slowly unraveled. Lost in the steam of the shower, we embraced in our own intimate paradise. Nothing else mattered but the two of us together.
“Can we stay like this forever?” he asked.
“The water might get cold.”
His laugh was husky. “True.”
“Also,” I added, “when you came in my mouth, it was very, very arousing.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Was it?”
I slid my hand between my thighs. “Should I touch myself? Make myself come?”
With a feral gleam in his eyes, he growled. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Your pleasure belongs to me.”
He swept me off my feet and carried me out of the shower. Dripping wet, I clung to him with my hands hooked behind his neck. He stopped only to shut off the water, then carried me over to the bed.
He put me down on the edge of the mattress, then grabbed a fluffy towel from the bathroom. He dried me off slowly, his touch a tormenting caress. My nipples tightened under the soft cotton of the towel. I squirmed on the bed, my fingers gripping the sheets. I was aching between my legs, my body already begging for release.
