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“You all right?” Troy’s rough voice fans hot against the shell of my ear.
I smile. “Definitely.”
We sit for a few minutes, letting the water work its magic. One of Troy’s arms is wrapped around my waist, keeping me in place. His other hand strokes the bare skin of my arm, and he lightly kisses my ears, my neck, my shoulders.
“I love you.” He whispers the words on my skin with each kiss, branding me with them.
I glance over my shoulder, a silent apology in my eyes at how I’m not ready to say the words.
Understanding burns in his. “I know. I’m a patient man. I can wait.” He seals his promise with the press of his lips on mine.
His hand moves from my arm to caress my breasts. The nipples pucker at his touch. He pinches one, and need shoots straight to my core.
I drop my head back on his shoulder, arching my spine. My nipples poke out of the water, the cooler air causing them to pucker even more.
Troy kisses my temple, but it’s not enough. I shift around, straddling him, and kiss him. My lips move with his, my hunger for him urging me on.
His hand skims down my body, and he gives my ass a light pinch.
I grin against his lips. My hand folds along Troy’s length, and I stroke him.
“Jesus!” The word flows from him, heat filling each syllable.
His hand moves between my legs, and he caresses my clit, teasing me until I’m squirming on his hand, searching for sweet relief.
His finger slips inside me, and I almost rocket out of the tub. Another finger joins the first, and he thrusts them in and out of me, pressing into my soft heat.
Mother of all things holy. Two weeks. How did I last that long without Troy? Without this?
I run my thumb across his swollen tip, thriving on the velvety softness. He groans.
I open my mouth to say I want him inside me, but it’s too late. I’m too…I’m too close to the edge. I…I can’t…last. Any. Longer.
And with one more thrust of his fingers, his thumb pressing my clit, I cry out and tumble happily into the star-filled abyss.
My pleasure echoes off the bathroom walls as the aftershocks roll through me in crescendoing waves, one after the other after the other.
Troy removes his hand, giving me a moment to recover.
“I need you inside me,” I whisper on his lips.
“We should probably get out of the Jacuzzi for that. The condoms are in my bedroom.” He helps me out of the tub. I started using the pill a few weeks ago, but it’s too early to rely on it yet.
The air is cooler than the water, and I shiver. Troy grabs a towel and wraps it around my shoulders.
We go into his bedroom, anticipation humming through my veins. I pile Troy’s pillows against the headboard, and he climbs onto the bed. He removes a couple of square foil packages from the bedside drawer, places them on the comforter, and I straddle him.
Our fingers and mouths resume their teasing and caressing, and it doesn’t take long for Troy to be hard once more and for me to be writhing at his touch. He rolls the condom on, and I position myself, his tip at my entrance.
I sink onto his length, gradually taking him in, my moans the accompanying symphony.
Two. Weeks.
That’s how long it’s been since I last had sex with Troy.
I’ll never make that mistake again.
55
