He raises my hand to his mouth and kisses my palm. “You already do.”
Those words bring a lump to my throat as he sets me down by the shower stall, hands lingering at my waist, making sure I’m steady before he lets go.
Turning on the shower, he waits for the water to warm before guiding me under the spray. He steps in beside me and grabs the shower gel, tipping some into his big palm.
The scent of lemon and eucalyptus hits my nose as his hands glide over my skin. He massages my ass, dipping his fingers between the cleft. My back arches involuntarily, surprised at how good it feels.
“You like that, don’t you, Laney?” Daniel mutters, his finger circling my back entrance. “Like your husband touching you here.”
“I like my husband touching me everywhere,” I say breathlessly.
“Lean back, sweetheart. Let me wash your hair.”
I do, shuddering as his hands slide down the front of my body, slick with the shower gel. He massages each breast and down over my mound to glide through my folds with his thick fingers.
“I thought you were washing my hair.”
He nuzzles my neck. “Keep getting distracted by this beautiful body.”
Daniel grabs the shampoo bottle, and I moan as he massages it through my scalp. I tip my head under the spray, and he repeats the process with the conditioner.
“I’m starting to think you missed your calling,” I tease. “You sure you didn’t mean to be a hairdresser instead of a rancher?”
“This is premium, husband-grade service.”
“Do I get a complimentary blowout?”
His hands move through my hair slowly, deliberately. “My wife gets whatever she wants.”
I turn in his arms. “What about what my husband wants?”
Pouring a little shower gel onto my palm, I slide my hand between us to his cock. He growls deep in his throat, eyes closing, head falling back against the tiles.
“Do you like it when I do this?” I ask, closing my fist around him and squeezing before dragging my hand up and down.
“Fuck, yes,” he mutters, jaw tight.
“Am I doing it right?”
Daniel half laughs, half moans. “Laney, you have my cock in your hand. There is no wrong way.”
I nip at his lower lip. “Some things feel better than others. Do you like it when I do this?”
I rub my thumb over the slit at the tip, finding the extra slickness there and smearing it in small circles.
Daniel grunts. “Jesus, woman, you’re driving me insane.”
Cupping the back of my head, he brings my mouth to his. He’s not gentle as he devours me. And I like it. Opening my mouth beneath his, I suck his tongue, as wild and needy as he is. I press closer, turning my hand so my palm slides against his shaft, hitting that spot beneath the crown as my nails scrape over his balls.
He wrenches his head away, breath coming in harsh, uneven pulls. Mine is no better—heat coiled tight and aching, my whole body humming.
“That’s it,” he growls, decision made.
Before I can ask what he means, he’s reaching for a towel, brisk and efficient. He dries me off quickly, hands sure and everywhere they need to be without lingering, like he’s barely holding onto his control.
I laugh breathlessly. “Daniel?—”
“Bedroom,” he says, voice low. “Now.”
