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So erotic.
I shouldn’t watch this. Should leave right now.
There’s just something so beautiful about the fast and feverish way he works his large erection, my name like a prayer on his lips. I’ve never watched much porn. Hell, I’ve never watched any porn. But I would happily subscribe to Creed Lawson’s self-care extravaganza. I just wish I could be the one to make him feel good.
To touch him.
To drive him wild with need.
Like I did the other night.
I’m so captivated by the sight of his muscles straining and flexing, I forget where I am and that I shouldn’t be watching this…
Until his hand stops moving, his body going rigid.
And not because he’s about to come undone.
But because he’s finally realized he’s no longer alone.
Chapter Eighteen
Creed
I blink, remaining perfectly still, praying if I open and close my eyes enough times, I’ll learn this isn’t real. That Esme’s not standing in the doorway of my bathroom, watching me jerk off in the shower as I moan her name.
That this is all simply a manifestation of my fantasies. Nothing more.
But no amount of blinking makes her disappear.
Instead, she remains unmoving, eyes hooded with desire as she sucks in that bottom lip I’d give anything to taste again. Her chest rises and falls in a quicker pattern, skin flushing from more than just some time in the sun.
What do I do? Do I turn off the water? Grab a towel and try to explain this away. Tell her it killed me to watch Jameson touch and kiss her. That I came up here to figure out how to deal with these emotions warring inside of me.
That the second I stepped under the water and closed my eyes, memories of our one night together came rushing back, my cock instantly stirring.
That I figured releasing some of my pent-up frustration might help me not be such a grumpy bastard.
That I never expected to open my eyes to see her watching me.
And I certainly don’t expect her to step farther into the bathroom and lift her sheer coverup over her head.
But that’s what she does.
I swallow hard, gaze transfixed on her as she loosens the ties of her bikini top, allowing it to fall to the floor. I hiss out a breath, my dick throbbing, begging for attention. I give him what he needs, slowly stroking myself again.
Esme shows her approval by sliding her tongue along her lips, smoothing her hands over her chest. When she pinches her nipples, mouth parting in pleasure, it takes everything I have not to come. Or storm out of this shower, force her to her knees, and plunge my dick between those red lips.
The mere thought has me on the brink of exploding, so I slow my motions, holding my breath as she slides a hand down her torso, grazing the waistband of her bikini bottoms.
Fully aware of the effect she has on me, she gives me a sly smile, arching a brow, as if asking if she should take them off, too.
Without a single moment of hesitation, I eagerly nod my reply.
Sultry eyes trained on mine, she removes the rest of her bikini, kicking it to the side along with her flip-flops.
I resume my motions, pulse racing. I don’t even care that my skin’s starting to prune. I’ll stay in here forever if I can feast my appreciative stare on her body.
She props herself on the vanity and spreads her legs. Even with the obstruction of the foggy glass wall, I can see how wet she is for me. My cock pulses, wanting to bury itself inside her. And as much as I’d love to feel her convulse around me, I want this more. Want to watch as she gives in to her desires. Something I know she struggles with after a lifetime of always doing what’s expected of her.
