How could one person make me feel so much?
He kissed the side of my face and neck, massaging every part of me while I tethered myself to him. We fondled each other under the water: sweat, steam, and ecstasy. I turned to kiss him, moaned, then broke away to breathe. We rocked against each other, gyrating. The tension kept building until my body trembled for release.
I needed pressure. His leg was too thick. His hands were occupied.
“Can we grind like this?” I positioned his penis underneath me. Not to go in, but to slide against, which I did.
Angel cursed. “Careful, pidge. I’m not wearing anything.”
“I know. I…I just need more of you,” I panted, placing my hands over his. “Please.”
He grunted and thrust against my swollen clit.
I was at the edge, my muscles tight in anticipation. Each rock of our hips pushed me closer to bliss. His passionate kisses only fueled my desire. Then, he touched me right where I needed him.
“Oh, Angel. Yes,” I cried out.
I arched my back, and my sex fluttered. Everything tensed in the best way possible. A tide roared in my ears, stars bursting behind my eyes. I shuddered, all nerve endings. It was too much. Wonderful. A few pulsing seconds had rewired my brain.
I collapsed against him, my bones jelly, not sure if he’d come, but too buzzed with ecstasy to investigate thoroughly. “Angel?” I murmured.
“Yes, Tori?” He peppered the side of my face in kisses and rubbed other parts of me tenderly, his heartbeat thundering under my cheek. He was flushed, sweating, and breathing heavy.
There were time limits on hot tubs at hotels, right? That much heat wasn’t good for blood pressure. And if he was on medication…
“Have we been in here too long?” I swept his hair aside to feel his forehead. “You’re warm.”
“You mean ‘hot.’” He smirked.
I rolled my eyes fondly. “Yes, you are. Maybe too hot to handle this tub any longer.”
He hugged me. “We can enjoy one more minute.”
“Okay.” I figured he’d want to finish what we’d started, so I reached under the water to help him, but he took my hand and turned so we could admire the stars. A breeze cooled my heated skin.
We idly stroked each other’s limbs, linking fingers amid the stream. Our skin was surprisingly supple for how long we’d been in the tub, just hints of grooves forming on our fingertips.
“What would you want our first time to be like?” he asked, tracing the veins on the back of my hand.
Ours.
He’d said that earlier about the swimsuit. And it was sweet, really.
But it also reminded me his first time hadn’t been with me. Jealousy twinged my insides.
I curled my fingers around his to abate it. He was here with me.
I huffed and nuzzled into him. “I don’t know. It’s hard to plan that kind of thing.”
He peered at my face. “Would you prefer it was spontaneous?”
“I guess.” I shook my hand free of his tickling caress, flicking water everywhere. “I-I don’t want to put expectations on it. I can’t even live up to the ones I set for myself. I'd hate to do that to our relationship.”
He hugged my waist, his breath tickling my neck. “It’s not bad to havesomeexpectations. That way, I can exceed them.”
That was easy for him to say—he’d dated around before this.
“I don’t have any experience,” I said, accidentally splashing us a bit in exasperation as I turned to him. “I won’t be great at sex our first couple times no matter how much research I put into it. Even if you put rose petals on a fluffy bedspread, I might be too anxious or exhausted to appreciate it. I don’t want to build our first time up to this great thing only for me to lay there like a tense starfish.”
