I’m sick of pretending like our platonic snuggles are good enough. I’m tired of having to pleasure myself to the memories of our night. It isn’t enough. It never is.
I stride to the bathroom like a woman on a mission. The sound of the shower gets louder as I slowly push the door open. The frosted doors make it hard to see through clearly. I swallow down a wave of lust, my panties wet with anticipation, and close the door behind me with a thud. I can feel Damian’s eyes on me, even though I can’t really see them.
“Brielle,” he warns. “What are you doing?”
“Thought right now was a good time to revisit that friends versus lovers conversation.”
A dark chuckle slips out of him. “If you want to talk, you’re going to need to get in here so I can hear you better.”
I pull my shirt over my head and tug my pants down my legs. Through the textured glass, I see Damian stroke himself, the slow, steady movement captivating me.
Warm water cascades down his body from the rain-head shower system as I step inside. His chest expands with every breath, his gaze raking over every inch of me.
“So, what did you want to discuss, specifically?” he asks, his fist still wrapped around his impressive cock. My mouth goes dry, and I lean against the shower wall. Watching him stroke himself while his eyes are on me makes my head spin with desire.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“You’re the one who came in here, beautiful. You tell me. Because I know that if it was up to me, you’d have your hands against those tiles instead of your back, holding on while I buried my dick so deep inside of you, you’d feel be feeling me for a week.”
I push myself off the wall. “Is that what you think about when you make yourself come?”
“Not always.” He shakes his head. “Sometimes you’re on your knees for me. Other times you’re riding my cock like you own it. But it’s always you, Brielle.” His hand cups my jaw, his thumb dragging across my bottom lip.
I wrap my hand around the base of his skull, pulling myself close to him, my lips crashing into his. His arms surround me, his erection thick against my belly. I don’t stop to think. There are no thoughts to be had. It’s just Damian, the touch of him consuming me. His tongue slips into my mouth on a heavy breath. His hands travel down my back, gripping my ass tightly. The heady sensation has my hips rolling against him, desperate for more.
Damian breaks the kiss and spins me around. His lips find the column of my neck as he explores my body. Featherlight, he touches the swell of my breasts, circling and swiping delicately across my nipples, down my sternum. Goose bumps erupt over my skin. It’s sexy and erotic, and I need so much more. His hand snakes lower, following the curve of my hip, until he slides his finger through my aching slit.
“How many times have you touched yourself, wishing it was me?”
I moan a response, tilting my head to the side to give him better access to my neck. He dances his finger between my legs, his touch lighting me up. Wetness pools in my core, ready for more. Ready for everything.
“That’s not an answer, Brielle. How many times?”
He’s not giving me what I need. I push into his hand, seeking friction, seeking pressure. “I don’t know. Too many to count.” My voice is high and breathy. He continues to tease me, pulling back when I try to take more.
“You’ve been torturing me for weeks. For months. And you think you can just get in here and take what you need? I’ll give you what you need, beautiful, on my time.”
He pushes two fingers into me, slipping into my wet center easily. It feels so good. He curls his fingers, stroking the inside of my walls on every pulse. I can’t help the noises coming from my lips. With his other hand, he pulls my nipple hard, squeezing and tugging on my breast. Pressure settles low in my pelvis, building higher and tighter as Damian continues to play with my body. A third finger finds my back hole, and he presses in slowly, the stretch making me feel so full of him. I moan, shameless and needy. I’m so close. I can feel my orgasm about to explode. Damian pumps his fingers into me from both angles.
“God, yes. I’m right there.”
He sucks on my neck, a groan on his lips, before suddenly, he pulls his hand away. I’m gasping for air, desperate for the release that was so close.
“Patience, Brielle. You don’t get to be greedy when you’ve made me wait weeks to touch you like this again.” His voice is pure sin and darkness. Arousal drips from my pussy, and I can feel Damian’s hard cock pressed into my ass.
He soaps up his hands and slowly starts to wash me. His hands glide over my back, my shoulders, down my arms, and across my belly. I massage the bar soap under the water until my hands are sudsy and start at his chest, moving to his abs and around his waist. We take our time, touching, exploring each other in every way. His thick cock begs for attention between us, and I wrap my hand around him, washing him from base to tip.
Damian growls, the muscles in his stomach tensing. He lowers his head to mine, claiming my lips, taking my breath away, stealing my ability to think of anything else but him. He shuts the water offwithout breaking the kiss. His arm cradles my back close to him as he walks me out of the shower.
“Mhmm,” I moan into his mouth, then proceed to dry him off inch by inch with my lips. I kiss a trail down his chest and over his abs. The muscles in his stomach tense, and something about seeing him affected by me turns me on even more.
I lower myself almost to my knees in front of him.
“Hold on.” His voice is gruff and scratchy. He pulls a fluffy black towel from the counter and tosses it to the floor by my feet. “This floor is made of stone.”
I have no words for the small consideration that is somehow the sweetest gesture. My knees hit the towel, and my lips close around his shaft. I work him in my mouth, dragging his head along my cheek while my hands stroke him simultaneously. He smells like soap and tastes like sin. I take him all the way to the back of my throat for as long as I can before I need to pull off of him to breathe. And then I do it again.
Damian grips my hair. His hooded eyes gaze down at me with a tortured look of ecstasy. “Fuck, Brielle. I’m not going to last. Your mouth feels too damn good.”
