“I know you didn’t come.” His breath is hot on my ear when he leans close and whispers, “Would you like to come for me now?”
I shift my hips up, opening for him as his fingers trail down my tummy. He’s so close to where I want him to touch me. But just like it wasn’t going to happen for me against his motorcycle, it’s not going to happen like this, either. I know my body, and the manual approach just usually isn’t enough.
“Maybe, um…” I start, then chicken out.
“Tell me,” he urges.
“Use the showerhead,” I say, glancing over my shoulder to watch how the words land.
But there’s no condemnation or reproach on his face—only a dark kind of heat, desire and excitement. I realize with a jolt that he’s not put off by the request. He’s not irritated because I need something more powerful than fingers or tongues, and he’s not doing it to humor me or hurry to get me off so he can stick his dick in me. He wants to do this. A lot.
Suddenly I realize what I want.
“He… in the alley, he… grabbed me from behind,” I confess softly.
Wesley goes rigid. “Do you want me to—”
I shake my head. “No, actually…” I inhale. Do I dare ask for this? It feels so… wrong. So exposing. Who goes through something horrific and then asks their partner to recreate it?
“You can tell me anything, Madison,” he says.
“Normally, I like being restrained… I like when you hold me like this—and I don’t want to think about him when you do it ever again. I want you to erase him. I want you to replace the awful memories with better ones. I want you to take that violence and turn it into something Iwant,where I have control and I can stop it.”
He nods and, if possible, that dark look in his eye shifts to something even darker. “What’s your safe word, Madison?”
“Red,” I recite dutifully, the word a kind of security blanket.
“Good girl. Lie back.”
When I settle back against him, his free hand slides up my ribcage, up between my breasts and circles around my throat. I gasp against his palm, letting my head fall back. My pulse roars in response, arousal tingling between my legs, making me squirm.
He uses his grip to shift my head to the side and drops a line of kisses along the line of my stretched neck, from shoulder to just under my ear. The sensation goes right to my swollen, thrumming, throbbing core. That ache deep inside me is like an itch I started scratching and stopped too soon, leaving it itchier than when I started.
“Like that?” he croons into my ear, making the fine hairs on my arms stand. “Do you like the feel of my hand on your throat, my love?”
My eyes drift shut. It’s like he’s talking to me so I can remember it’s him back there. “Yes Sir.”
He drops his legs and maneuvers mine over his knees, then widens them until my calves are pressed into the sides of the tub. I’m spread open, wide, and the warm, silky water caresses my aching pussy so softly that I have to clutch his forearm as my body spasms in need.
“I’ve got you, Madison.”
I nod. He tightens his hand, angling my head back so he can cover my mouth with his. Just as I open to receive the kiss, I feel the spray of the wand between my legs, against my upper thigh. My leg tenses, but I’m trapped—not just by his demanding lips, or his legs pressing mine into the cool sides of the tub, or his fingers against my pulse. I’m trapped by his desire. I’m helpless to do anything but give in and obey. And it’s such a turn-on that my skin feels like it’s on fire.
With a flick of his thumb, he changes the spray setting to the targeted pulse from the middle. And when the focused stream of water finds my clit, I moan, jerking in the erotic prison of his body. The spray is intense, but diffused enough that it hits a wide area, massaging not just the nerve endings but also the area around them. My whole body is alive with the sensation.
“Too much?” he asks, lips brushing against mine with the shape of the words.
Eyes squeezed shut, I shake my head.
“Eyes on me. Look at me, Madison. Stay right here with me,” he demands, rolling his hips forward so I can feel his cock pressing into my lower back. It makes me whimper, reminding me of the ache deep inside me, desperate to be filled. My eyes fly open, and suddenly I’m falling into the swirling gray depths of him. “You’re mine, you understand that? Mine.”
With as deeply as we’re locked in, the words land in a way that causes chills to erupt all over my skin. I squirm under the weight of it, and tug uselessly against his hold, sucking in a sob when the fact that I can’t move just ratchets my arousal up another notch.
“Wesley—”
“And I’m yours.”
Wesley’s fingers are hot and firm on my neck, holding me in place. He makes a deep noise, low in his chest, and slams his lips down on mine. I totally lose myself. With the nozzle perfectly aimed at the exact right spot, I’m spinning, weightless and formless, ascending towards a building pressure that sits almost painfully out of reach. I fly higher, reaching closer, and the water pounds relentlessly against the most sensitive part of me.
