“I can’t,” Mags moaned.
Blair signed, “We should be taking our holiday in Arkansas for all the hillbilly shit the O’Faolains and Griffiths are subjecting us to.”
Thankfully, things deflated in his nether region, and he was able to stand and say his goodbyes. Blair put her back to Jonathan and signed, “Last chance, dickhead.”
He cupped one hand, so his one-finger salute wasn’t visible except to her. Blair’s low chuckle, which she verbalized, stopped the group, since it was such an anomaly for her to verbalize anything outside of her girlfriends. Blair’s friendship made him smile. Ciar grinned back and winked at the ornery fairy.
Ciar went to his room and grabbed a clean shirt and boxers before sneaking into Gray’s room, handily next door.
She left the door unlocked. “Good girl,” he whispered.
The light was on in the bathroom, and he could hear the shower running. Perfect for his plans. He stripped before walking into the bathroom. She had her head tipped back, rinsing her hair, and didn’t see him immediately, giving him a moment to study her body.
The picture she’d sent him alluded to her perfection. She was all smooth and pale gold. Her long legs and arms were strongand muscled, her stomach was fit yet feminine, her breasts and round, firm ass…he wanted his mouth on.
Water was sluicing down her curves and funneling between her thighs. He was back to being hard as stone. There was nothing for it. He certainly couldn’t hide it.
He opened the glass door at the exact moment her eyes opened, a small shriek on her lips.
“What the hell are you doing, Ciar?” Her attempt to cover her body was cute.
“Don’t bother, baby. I’m seconds away from licking my way from your toes to your mouth.”
Her eyes widened further as they trailed over his naked flesh. The lingering stare focused on his groin made his dick twitch.
Honestly, he had debated with himself on whether or not to go in naked, but after her teasing and how she fondled his junk, he decided to go for it. He had no intention of having sex tonight, but every intention of them getting to know each other’s bodies—hence the naked part.
Ciar took himself in hand and stroked, pinching the head to stave off some of his anatomy’s excitement.
“Pass me the shampoo.” She startled, still fixated on what he was doing to himself. He had to let go to grasp the bottle she handed him, making quick work of lathering his hair. He made sure to crowd her body while he rinsed.
“Have you washed your body yet?” She shook her head no. “Hand me the soap and sponge then, baby, and I’ll do it for you.” She obeyed, not speaking but definitely watching.
He stepped behind her and started with her arms and back, moving her golden waves to the side so that he could run the sponge down her spine.
“I’ve only touched your body through your clothes. The other times were only in my dreams. You were definitely naked, though.” Dropping the sponge, he added more soap to his handsand slicked up her sides, hesitating a beat beneath her breasts before covering the full globes.
“Ciar,” she moaned, as he squeezed and massaged, twisting her nipples into hardened peaks.
Her ass kept brushing his sex, driving him wild. Forcing himself to leave her breasts, he dropped to his knees, loving it when Gray groaned, “Don’t stop.”
He picked up each foot, washing them before sliding up the back of her calves, thighs, and finally her firm cheeks. Committed to being thorough, he slid his fingers between the cleft, making her moan louder.
“So beautiful.” He told her while turning her body to face him. He ran his soapy hands up the fronts of her legs until his fingers gripped her upper thighs, loving that he could feel the tremor of her muscles beneath his palms.
“Only one place left to wash. Lean your back to the wall, Gray,” he instructed. “Spread your legs for me.” She obeyed. He looked up at her half-lidded eyes, observing his every move.
“You ready?”
“So ready,” she said, breathless.
He kept watching her face as he brushed back and forth over her seam. Dipping his fingers past her lips had him groaning. Her mouth fell open as her hips bucked against his fingers, which had yet to penetrate.
When his tongue replaced his hand, it could have been one minute or thirty. Nothing mattered but her taste.
She stiffened beneath his mouth, her hips quivering until a keening wail escaped. “Ciar. Ciar. God, Ciar, don’t stop.”
“Never,” he groaned against her slick folds. She erupted seconds later, screaming his name while her shaky limbs barely kept her standing.
