“Lift your dress and sit your sweet bare ass on the counter.” Max jerked his chin to the empty section of the vanity next to me.
My heart pounded in my ears, clamored for more of this electric desire, shocking and powerful. I turned and reeled the fabric of my dress into my fists again. Even though the room was filled with warm steam, it still felt cool when it hit the heat pooled between my thighs. I swayed back, mysweet bare asscolliding with the edge of the counter. Grabbing it, I worked myself up carefully onto the edge, my legs naturally drifting apart and my hand sliding to my stomach.
Max’s eyes flashed, and he jerked himself harder. Faster. The wet slaps of flesh on flesh ricocheted around the small room, and all I could do was stare.Admire.The symphony of his muscles inhaled and exhaled the tension of pleasure, their tautness defining every line from his forearms to his shoulders and thendown to his chest, the bricks of his abs, and then the V at his hips that pointed my gaze lower.
For four years, I never let myself look too long at my boyfriend’s best friend. I’d felt the tingles, the pull when I did, so I stopped letting myself. I’d had a good reason for always looking away…I didn’t have a good reason anymore.
I settled on the grip of his fist and the thick rod of flesh wedged in his grip. My lips fell apart as I took him in. The dusting of dark hair at the root. The veins that distend around his thick girth. The blunt, purple tip protruding from his hand, a bead of creamy wet pooling at the slit there.
“Show me how wet this makes you.”
My eyes snapped up like they’d been caught in a cookie jar.Or a cock stare.
Had he?—
“Put your feet up on the edge of the counter and spread them wide.”
I hadn’t misheard him.
My fingers unclenched from where they held my dress. I drew my right leg up first and then my left, feeling the fabric of my dress slide down my legs, but my stomach kept it pooled between them, obscuring his view.
Max looked feral, his gaze incinerating every inch of skin it raked over. “Move your dress, Daisy. Show me how wet you are.”
Swallowing over the balloon in my throat, I kept my eyes on his expression as I pressed my hands below my stomach and slowly peeled my dress up, baring myself to his hungry stare.
I shivered, feeling the damp air on my bare, slick sex. I was so exposed, so vulnerable, but I didn’t feel that way when I looked at him. When I saw the way Max looked at me, the only thing I truly felt was powerful.
He pushed open the shower door slowly as though any swift movement would shatter the fragile armor of control he clung to.His nostrils flared at the clear sight he had of me spread wide in front of him.
“Fuck, that’s a pretty pussy, Daze, all pink and puffy and wet because of me.” Max’s low voice felt like warm sugar on my skin, but the way he stared…it was like pure fire injected into my veins.
He gripped one side of the shower opening. Maybe it was the water, but it looked like his fingers dented where they pressed into the glass.
My breathing marched without care or rhythm into my lungs, my breasts straining against the fabric of my chest, my nipples aching to be exposed to his gaze too. My hands slid from my stomach to grip my knees, and my head tipped back against the wall, a restlessness starting to claim me. I didn’t just want to watch. I wanted him. I wanted him to make this ache—this craving I had for him—go away.
“Talk to me, Daisy,” he commanded, his irises staked to me like shards of steel. And the way he fisted himself was nothing short of suffocating as he began pumping his cock again. Harder. Faster. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” I breathed. “I want you, Max. Please.”
Something between a snarl and a growl steamed from the shower.
“Touch your clit, Daisy. Show me what you want me to be doing to you.”
I was too hormonal—too horny—to be embarrassed by the speed with which my right hand dropped between my legs, my middle finger centering on the tight bundle of nerves that screamed for attention.
The first stroke rained fireworks over my skin. I’d been desperate for this relief for weeks, but never seemed to find it on my own. No matter how much I ached. No matter how many dreams I had about Max. I could never relax enough to orgasm,as though my mind was stuck in fight or flight, too stressed to be vulnerable even to self-pleasure.
“That’s it, baby. Rub that needy clit hard. You’re so swollen and wet. So fucking needy.”
I shook my head, shallow breaths shuttling in and out of my lungs, as my body chased its pleasure. No, not chased. Followed Max’s lead, knowing he’d take care of me.Trusting him to take care of me.
“Stop.”
My eyes snapped wide, oxygen glugging through my lips.Stop?I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t think I could stop.
“Stop biting your lip, Daze,” Max clarified huskily. “I want to hear every needy moan. Every messy sound.”
A whimper broke from my throat in relief, and my fingers redoubled their efforts on my clit.
