“Is there something stopping you?” I counter.
It’s a double-sided question, a tease on one side and a deep-rooted belief that showers make people tell the truth on the other. If he says no, there is a deliciously good chance he is going to drink from my pussy like it’s the fountain of youth. If he says yes, it would proveall those things my mother used to say true. Men don’t want bigger girls, and they won’t pay for a cow when they get the milk for free.
Both statements are lies. My mother’s poisonous language and beliefs are yet another reason I started writing romance. In fiction, the main characters put in the effort, they want to express their passions to the fullest for their love interest simply because they can. They don’t follow toxic beliefs about masculinity or what relationships “should be”.
They are good people.
Valentino is a good man.
“Your locked door didn’t stop me from coming in, sweetheart. The only thing that will stop me from worshipping you is you.” His voice rumbles as the water pounds his shoulders.
My body isn’t at war over that contradicting statement. My date broke into my room, a red flag. But also he is respecting my right to say no, a green flag. I have two hands, I can hold both ideas. And a red flag has never stopped me from getting attached to someone before when a partner has done something crazy.
In fact, it’s always made me a bit hotter for them. Something about actions like this makes me believe Valentino could be as obsessive as I can be. That he would go to any lengths to be with me. It’s dark andtwisted how much that thought turns me on, but when I press my ass back into his crotch, his hard cock is all I’m focused on.
“Let me shower, and I’ll do the worshipping,” I promise, reaching for the tiny hotel soap that came with the room.
“No.”
He takes the soap before I can, rubbing himself across my ass while he starts to lather up his hands. I watch, because what else am I supposed to do? Valentino begins at my fingertips, massaging each little soft spot before he moves up my arm. He does the same thing to my other side. Each circle his thumb makes across my body makes my lower tummy light up.
As he reaches my shoulders, he takes his time coaxing the tension out of them. His hands work in unison to turn me to putty. I moan at one point, and he slides his right hand around my throat to pull my head back. He’s gentle, careful in his caress to make sure my breathing is even without letting me move.
“I love hearing those sounds come out of your pretty mouth,” he whispers. “I want to hear them every day.”
Oh god. Red alert. Big red fucking alert. He can’t say things like that to me. My body reacts instantly, clit humming while my knees give enough to make his grip tighten around my neck. I want to, need to, keep tellingmyself it’s just bedroom talk, but there is a moment where we stare into each other’s eyes and all I see is sincerity.
A half-hearted whimper falls past my lips.
“You like that, don’t you?” he teases with a grin. “My girl is down bad, isn’t she?”
I nod because if I open my mouth I will say something awful like,never leave me. He can’t know that. Not while we aren’t in the real world. Vacations exist in a liminal space where food doesn’t have calories and money means nothing. The moment we are both stateside again, Valentino will see my clinginess and behaviour for the unhealthy coping mechanism it is.
“You want to know how bad I’ve got it?” he asks.
The hand on my shoulder slides down and under my arm until he’s holding my breast. He squeezes softly. His fingers rub circles around my soft nipple until it’s hard.
“Please,” I whine.
“I didn’t sleep last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He tugs at my nipple until I keen, eyes flutter closed as arousal burns through me. “I saw you arrive and knew you were mine. I had to have you.”
His fingers tighten around my throat as his other hand drifts down. The soap has long washed away, but he smooths his palm across my stomach – happytrail, stretch marks, and all. I try to suck it in, anything to make myself smaller as he explores the part of me I struggle to love the most.
“Then this morning, in that fucking bikini,” he groans, teeth scraping across my jaw. “I thought I was going to lose all control of myself. The only thing that distracted me all morning was a little spicy book, though lo and behold, my girl is the devious imagination behind all those scenes. She’s got the brains and beauty all wrapped up in this gorgeous lavender package for me.”
My body is red from the steam of the shower, but a blush stains my cheeks further with an unbearable heat that matches the one in my pussy. Is this a praise kink? Or do I just have a thing for someone as worldly and put together as Valentino seeing all that I am?
He moves my legs further apart with his foot to give him enough space to slide his hand over my mons. Two fingers spread my labia while a third glides through my arousal to spread it across my clit. My hips twitch, the sensation shooting right through me. He’s already given me an orgasm tonight, yet I feel like I haven’t been touched in a decade. My body opens to him without caution.
“Valentino,” I stutter, pressing my hand into the tiles in front of me when he starts to play with me. His cock dips between my thighs and teases my pussy. Everylittle thrust he does, I move back to meet him. I want him inside me. Need it. “Fuck me, please.”
“Is that what you need, sweetheart?” His voice is darker, an edge to it that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Need my dick?”
“Yes,” I groan, rising on my tiptoes to make the angle work.
In a rush, he turns the shower off and drags me out. I barely have time to think, but the cold drip of my hair down my back turns my brain on enough to grab the towels hanging by the door. Valentino doesn’t dry me off, doesn’t dry himself off, when he takes them from me. He lays them out across the bed in a haphazard and perfunctory way.
The romance writer in me is more than a little put off by the practicality of this. My face must show it because Valentino chuckles. He cups both of my cheeks and kisses me. The heat is still there. His tongue delves into my mouth and teases mine until my fingernails are racking down his back.
