When I turn around, Greg has started to undress. His shirt drops to the tiles, and his hands move to his belt. He slowly lowers his jeans and steps out of them, leaving a pool of fabric on the floor, then stands leaning against the door, eyes locked on mine. His tongue darts out to lick his lip and I echo the movement.
He’s a dream come true, a gift I’m so lucky I get to keep. The accident could have taken everything away, but here we are—married and in love. There are scars, both inside and out, but that’s what makes everything we have so special. My gaze drops to his thigh, following the deep groove and patchwork of lines that starts at his hip and finish just above his knee.
“What are you thinking about, babe?” he asks.
I blink and shake my head, eyes flicking back to his. “I… Just that I can’t believe we’re here, you know?”Shit.As the words leave my mouth, I wish there was a way I could take them back instead of ruining the mood.
But Greg’s smile softens. “I know what you mean. But we are, and I’m so thankful. Every day.” He prowls toward me. “You’re all I ever wanted, Cameron Walker.”
His words and the look in his eye cause my heart to flutter and my pulse to speed up, and when he wraps his arms around my waist and hauls me against him, I groan. I love the hardness of his body and the heat I can feel through my shirt. His lips find mine, hot and insistent, his tongue seeking mine in a familiar dance. He tugs my shirt from my jeans as my hands roam into his curls. God, I love his hair. With his golden curls, he looks like an angel, but inside he’s all fiery wildness.
As much as I’d make love to Greg right there on the cool tiles, I also want to worship him, first in the shower, then in our bed,so I break the contact. I make short work of removing the rest of my clothes as he peels off his socks. He leans forward to test the stream of water and I can’t resist running my palm over the rounded curve of his ass. He chuckles and lowers his boxers, giving me access to the smooth skin with its soft fuzz. This man has the hottest ass I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing and I can’t get enough.
He steps into the shower, letting the water cascade down his body, and closes his eyes as he raises his face to the spray. I follow, pressing firmly against his back. As the water falls around us, I run my hands over his shoulders and down his arms, loving the feel of his muscles under my fingertips.
“Your hands are cold,” he murmurs.
I chuckle, my lips finding the crook of his neck, as I trace the way back up to his shoulders. “I’m warming them up.”
He turns so we’re chest to chest, circling his arms around my neck. I reach for the showerhead and adjust the stream of water. Warmth envelops us as steam fills the room. We stand like that for a few minutes, luxuriating in the water, until eventually I step back and reach for the shampoo. It doesn’t take long to wash his hair, then I swap to the sponge and shower gel. I lather his shoulders and arms as the scent of sandalwood and cedar fills the room. I spin him and soap his back and ass, then turn him again to rinse the lather off under the spray.
Greg hums as I run the sponge over his chest, leaving a new path of bubbles. A shudder runs through him as I wash the sensitive area at his side. He’s ticklish and I smile at his response. My hands roam lower, tracing the patterns of the scar tissue on his thigh. The back of my hand nudges his cock that’s resting heavy, a sign that he’s enjoying my explorations as much as I am.
“You ready?” I ask.
“Mmm… Hmm.” His voice is soft, relaxed. He’s just how I want him.
It doesn’t take long to wash myself. I step from the shower and wrap a towel around my hips, then hold out my hand. He allows me to tug him from the spray and wrap him in a robe. I turn off the water, then focus on him. I smile, heart full, as I towel dry his hair, watching the curls spring back.
Once we’re semi-dry—as dry as my impatience allows—I grab a fresh towel and pull him toward the bedroom. Once there, I pull the curtains and move between our nightstands, flicking on the bedside lamps and casting the room in a warm, golden glow. I take the matchbox from the top drawer and make my way around the room, lighting the tealight candles and the scented candle on the dresser. The flickering flames add to the ambiance. I didn’t mind the slight chill in the air. My skin is heated from the warm shower, my blood thrumming from Greg’s presence.
He watches my every movement as I toss the matchbox back into the drawer and pad across the room to pull down the bedcovers and lay the fresh towel over the sheets.
“Come here,” I say, untucking my towel and tossing it over the chair in the corner.
His eyes widen, and he scans my body. My cock lengthens under his scrutiny and the corner of his lip lifts.
He moves to me when I beckon. A quick tug of the robe tie, and I push the toweling over his shoulders where it drops to the floor. Once he’s naked, I indicate the bed, and soon he’s lying like an offering—an offering I intend to take full advantage of.
He taps the mattress, and I lie down next to him, quickly enveloped in his warmth as he pulls me into his arms. His lips meet mine and his hand trails over my side and I arch into his touch. I love his hands on me, but I have other plans for tonight.Breaking the kiss, I reach for the nightstand, retrieving a bottle of massage oil.
“Oh, I like where this is going,” Greg whispers, eyes darkening with desire.
I pour a generous amount of the scented oil onto my hand. “Just you wait, babe, I’m about to make you feel so good.”
“You always do.”
I chuckle softly. “Turn over.”
As soon as Greg’s lying on his stomach, I begin to work the slick oil into his muscles, starting at the base of his neck and across his shoulders. He groans as I knead away the tension, stretching like a cat under my hands. The massage is slow and unhurried, alternating between gentle caresses and a stronger touch where I ease my thumbs into his muscles. His skin shines under the candlelight, the soft scent of cedar and musk fills the room.
“Feels so good.” He hums softly, almost purring with pleasure.
Needing more purchase, I straddle his thighs. The new position allows me to bend over his body and put pressure behind my movements. His skin is smooth as I stroke up either side of his spine, working the tightness there. He groans when my thumb hits a knot and works it loose. The sound travels straight to my groin, my already hard cock jumping in response. I’m tempted to press it to his crease, but not yet—I’m not finished with him yet.
Replenishing the oil in my hands, I shuffle lower so I can reach his thighs. I work in the oil, fingers dancing over the scar tissue, but not for long. I work my way back up to his ass, pressing circles into the globes of flesh. He moans and tries to widen his legs, his movements hampered by my weight, but I know exactly what he wants. My fingers dip into his crease on each rotation of the firm muscles of his ass. The fine blond hairs glisten and Greg pushes himself into the mattress, muscles tensing as heseeks friction. I keep the circular motions going—hard, then soft, a little farther into his crease with each pass, until eventually the tips of my fingers graze his hole.
“Yeesss.” He’s squirming now, and groans as I enter him with a fingertip. It’s not enough and he lets me know by pushing back. “Cam. Please.”
