“Dax—” My voice is unfamiliar and primal.
“That’s it,” he growls. “I can feel that tight pussy clenching around me.”
“Oh, God.”
“Come for me, baby. Right fucking now.”
His words—and one more stroke—are all it takes. Then he’s slamming into me as the orgasm grabs hold of my whole body and throws me into a spinning centrifuge of pleasure.
Sensation pulses through me with each thrust, with every slick stroke from the pads of my fingers. My breasts smoosh into the counter, giving me the delicious contrast of cool porcelain and raw heat and explosions of bliss all around me.
Dax slams in harder, and somewhere in the back of my brain, I realize he’s coming, too. The spasms inside me give way to more, and I feel my own body is responding, yanking me back onto the rollercoaster of pleasure.
Holy shit. Is this what they mean by multiple orgasms?
We’re both breathless by the time the sensation stops. I lie there spread across the counter, this panting, grinning, unrecognizable version of me.
Dax meets my eyes in the mirror and smiles. “You okay?”
He doesn’t wait for me to answer. Just pulls me up against him where I bury my face against his chest and nod and grin and giggle without meaning to.
“I’m amazing,” I breathe. “Was it good for you, too?” I do a mental face-palm at the sound of those words. “That was dorky, wasn’t it?”
Dax just shakes his head and strokes a hand down my back. “That was fucking phenomenal.”
I smile. “Agreed.”
He turns me so I’m leaning against the shower wall. It’s a good thing, too, since my legs were about to give out. “Was that a little outside your comfort zone?” he asks. “The dirty talk, touching yourself—all of that?”
I nod as heat creeps into my cheeks. “A little, but isn’t that the point?”
“Definitely,” he says. “But I hope you know you can tell me if you don’t want to do something.”
“I know.”
I may not know Dax well, but I can trust him with this. My body, my safety, my heart?—
No. Not my heart. That’s not what this is about.
I smile and try to think of something witty to say. Something breezy and flirtatious so he understands we’re on the same page with this casual sex thing.
I’m still thinking when there’s a gurgle from above, followed by a blast of icy water.
“Aaaagh!” I shriek as Dax spins me around so he’s shielding me with his body. We’re both laughing as he fumbles for the taps, twisting off the icy blast of water. “Fuck!” he gasps as he cranks the knob, tattooed forearms wet and flexing.
When he turns to face me, we’re both dripping and laughing like idiots. “Well,” he says. “Looks like the water’s working.”
I dissolve into giggles again, certain I haven’t laughed so hard in years.
Certain that the potent stew of emotion simmering in my gut is way more intense than I’d bargained for. I expected fondness, not passion. Pleasure, not joyful delirium. Insert tab B into slot A and all that jazz, but this—this—whatever it is with Dax… It’s not like anything I’ve known before.
Dammit.
Dax grins, and I wonder if he’s read my mind. “Ready for that shower now?”
I shoot a nervous glance at the showerhead. “Does it have a setting besides frigid?”
“Let’s find out.”
