I make my way to his cock and wrap it with my slippery, soapy hands. The sound that comes from his mouth is part sigh and part growl. I’m getting hotter by simply touching him.
I can’t get enough. But what else is new?
His length is heavy in my hands. I stroke, up and down, and he puts one hand around my waist and the other to the shower wall. His head tilts back as my hand continues to move. I give him just enough, like he did me.
The way he reacts and presses into me, my touch.
I feel like a goddess.
We rinse off the soap, still kissing and touching. Our hands explore each other’s bodies and the warm water eases some of the tension, physical and emotional, from the hike. Once we’re both ready for what’s next, Holland turns off the water, grabs a towel and quickly dries us off.
He helps me out of the shower, careful not to slip, and then carries me to his bed. Again, with the carrying. Why the fuck is this so hot?
Slowly, he lays me down on the bed, never breaking our kiss. Holland stands up and takes me in, from head to toe.
“What?” I ask, teetering on the edge of self-consciousness. I prop myself on my elbows.
“You’re fucking amazing,” he says while climbing over the top of me. His dick is hard against me and it’s maddening. I want him. All of him.
“You don’t need to use a condom; I have an IUD. Unless you want to,” I say, clearly ready for him. I’m surprised by the confidence.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I’m confident and already reaching up for him.
Instead, he kisses me from my breasts down to my belly button. A trailfrom top to bottom. My breath is quick and his pace is slow. It’s torture and bliss, all at once. I think I know where he’s going next.
“You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to…” The confident woman is gone. Slight insecurity takes over.
Holland’s face is confused for a few seconds until a look of understanding hits him. I’m grateful neither of us say what we know aloud. This isn’t something I’m used to or have a ton of experience with.
“Are you kidding? Of course, I want to.” He’s genuine. Hopeful. And with that, he moves further down my body. My heart flutters with anticipation.
He swipes a finger against me, testing my wetness. “Ivy, you’re so wet.” His voice is low and tantalizing. “Even out of the shower, you’re wet for me.”
He teases me with his fingers. I want more but he refuses to give it up. Holland knowsexactlywhat he’s doing. His touch is delicate and soft. I think he senses my impatience and his lips turn up at one corner. He’s loving this.
“What do you want?” Holland croons.
He looks up. When I see his head between my legs, eyes making contact, I feel wild. Like the only thing that would save me is his touch. His mouth. Him.
“Tell me.”
“You.” My voice is breathy as my hands are pulling at the sheets. “I want you.” I arch a little off the bed.
“You have me.” He teases me with his fingertips lightly touching the inside of my thighs.
“I want you to kiss me,” I mutter. I’m for sure out of my comfort zone here.
He goes to kiss me on my lips. I put my hands on his shoulders. He stops.
“Not here,” I say, with a finger to my lip. “Here.” I trail a finger downand touch myself.
“Good girl,” he says and licks his lips. Those perfect lips. I feel like I could pass out. No one has ever said that to me in bed before.
Before I have long to think about the whole “good girl” comment, he puts his mouth so close to my center. Teasing me as he did with his fingers, my hips move with and against him.
When he’s done making me wait, he delicately licks my clit, with the tip of his tongue. I gasp and say his name.
