shirt.
“Don’t worry about me, freckles. Just hold on to that towel bar behind you and let
me make you feel good.”
Her gaze went hazy with arousal and maybe a little fear, but she followed his instruction.
He kept an arm banded around her to make sure she was steady on her feet, then he
slipped his hand beneaththe edge of the towel, brushing against the smoothness of her inner thighs and sliding
upward to find the damp thatch of hair at their juncture. She closed her eyes and
leaned her head back against the shower wall. God, he wanted to yank that towel off
her, see her stretched out like this and totally bare, but he knew if he took it that
far, he’d end up inside her, taking more than he had any right to. He brushed his
finger along her cleft, and she bucked against him, the simple touch pulling a moan
from her.
The sound was like a stroke to his cock, her sensitivity like waving a red flag in
front of a bull. Oh, how he could torture someone so responsive, drag out her pleasure
until she was begging for release. “Darlin’, if you’re that keyed up, this isn’t going
to take long.”
“Please,” she whispered, her hips tilting toward his touch.
He smiled, giving her what she sought, a firm slide over her clit. The nub seemed
to swell beneath his fingers, her arousal coating his skin despite the shower water
pounding down on them. He could smell her sexy scent, so sweet and tempting. He’d
love to part those thighs and taste every bit of her, but instead he tucked two fingers
inside her heat and kept his thumb against her clit.
“Oh, God.” Her body clenched around his fingers and she rocked against his hand, shamelessly
taking things to the pace she craved. Needy. Starved.
“That’s right,” he said against her ear as he pumped his fingers inside her. “Take
what you need. Let yourself go.”
As if she’d been waiting for the words, she let out a sharp cry and her fingers went
bloodless against the towel bar. The tremor of orgasm seemed to go through every inch
of her, her body quivering in front of him, going flushed and pink. Quick, breathy
gasps slipped past her lips as she undulated against his touch, milking every bit
of pleasure she could.
His cock pressed against his zipper, begging for relief, for her, but he clenched
his jaw and willed the ache away. He knew how tohold back his own need for hours in a play session. He could handle this. At least
that’s what he kept repeating in his head as Charli drifted down from her quick-and-dirty
orgasm.
He moved his hand away from her and resisted the urge to lick her arousal from his
fingers, to let her watch how he would savor her taste. Or even better, to paint it
over her nipples and then suck them clean. His cock flexed and he held back a groan.
He was on the precipice of losing his control. This had been a bad idea. If she could
push him to this point with him simply touching her, he was in trouble.
He reached out and turned off the shower. Her eyes fluttered open, the daze of orgasm
still heavy in her expression. Her hands slipped off the bar and she pushed her sopping
hair away from her face. “Wow, that was…I don’t usually…”
He smiled, though the effort was strained from his own keyed-up state. “Feel better?”
“So much better. Thank you.” She pushed off the wall and reached for the nape of his
neck. He watched the play of desire move over her features, loving the way her fingers
tightened against his skin. He found himself contemplating how easy it would be to
loosen that towel, bind her arms with it, and take her right there against the shower
wall. Her look said she would let him. But before he could truly lose all sense of
right and wrong, she lifted up on her toes, her face moving toward him. Panic zipped
through him like an electric bolt when he realized what she was going to do, and he
instinctively moved his head to the left, dodging
“Don’t worry about me, freckles. Just hold on to that towel bar behind you and let
me make you feel good.”
Her gaze went hazy with arousal and maybe a little fear, but she followed his instruction.
He kept an arm banded around her to make sure she was steady on her feet, then he
slipped his hand beneaththe edge of the towel, brushing against the smoothness of her inner thighs and sliding
upward to find the damp thatch of hair at their juncture. She closed her eyes and
leaned her head back against the shower wall. God, he wanted to yank that towel off
her, see her stretched out like this and totally bare, but he knew if he took it that
far, he’d end up inside her, taking more than he had any right to. He brushed his
finger along her cleft, and she bucked against him, the simple touch pulling a moan
from her.
The sound was like a stroke to his cock, her sensitivity like waving a red flag in
front of a bull. Oh, how he could torture someone so responsive, drag out her pleasure
until she was begging for release. “Darlin’, if you’re that keyed up, this isn’t going
to take long.”
“Please,” she whispered, her hips tilting toward his touch.
He smiled, giving her what she sought, a firm slide over her clit. The nub seemed
to swell beneath his fingers, her arousal coating his skin despite the shower water
pounding down on them. He could smell her sexy scent, so sweet and tempting. He’d
love to part those thighs and taste every bit of her, but instead he tucked two fingers
inside her heat and kept his thumb against her clit.
“Oh, God.” Her body clenched around his fingers and she rocked against his hand, shamelessly
taking things to the pace she craved. Needy. Starved.
“That’s right,” he said against her ear as he pumped his fingers inside her. “Take
what you need. Let yourself go.”
As if she’d been waiting for the words, she let out a sharp cry and her fingers went
bloodless against the towel bar. The tremor of orgasm seemed to go through every inch
of her, her body quivering in front of him, going flushed and pink. Quick, breathy
gasps slipped past her lips as she undulated against his touch, milking every bit
of pleasure she could.
His cock pressed against his zipper, begging for relief, for her, but he clenched
his jaw and willed the ache away. He knew how tohold back his own need for hours in a play session. He could handle this. At least
that’s what he kept repeating in his head as Charli drifted down from her quick-and-dirty
orgasm.
He moved his hand away from her and resisted the urge to lick her arousal from his
fingers, to let her watch how he would savor her taste. Or even better, to paint it
over her nipples and then suck them clean. His cock flexed and he held back a groan.
He was on the precipice of losing his control. This had been a bad idea. If she could
push him to this point with him simply touching her, he was in trouble.
He reached out and turned off the shower. Her eyes fluttered open, the daze of orgasm
still heavy in her expression. Her hands slipped off the bar and she pushed her sopping
hair away from her face. “Wow, that was…I don’t usually…”
He smiled, though the effort was strained from his own keyed-up state. “Feel better?”
“So much better. Thank you.” She pushed off the wall and reached for the nape of his
neck. He watched the play of desire move over her features, loving the way her fingers
tightened against his skin. He found himself contemplating how easy it would be to
loosen that towel, bind her arms with it, and take her right there against the shower
wall. Her look said she would let him. But before he could truly lose all sense of
right and wrong, she lifted up on her toes, her face moving toward him. Panic zipped
through him like an electric bolt when he realized what she was going to do, and he
instinctively moved his head to the left, dodging
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