I laughed and smacked his arm. “Right then, off I go. You can keep the bed warm.”
“You seem to be mistaken. I’m not showering with you, but Iamwatching.”
“Excuse me?” I said, mock-affronted.
“If I’m invited to shower with you, I’m invited to watch. Or at the very least, perform my ablutions in the same room as you showering. Anything to get us moving faster.”
He hauled me off the bed and frog-marched me into the washroom. Alex stood at the sink with his toiletry bag, digging through for floss and toothpaste. I met his eyes in the mirror and raised an eyebrow.
He raised one back, and I swept my shirt off over my head. We held eyes while I moved to my shorts, unbuttoning them and letting them drop to the floor. I broke eye contact to pull my sports bra off over my head, and Alex’s hands slowed while twining his floss around a finger. But he didn’t break eye contact.
I dug my thumbs under the waistband of my underwear, and a muscle twitched in his cheek. His hands had completely stopped moving. In this game of chicken, I was winning.
I dropped my underwear. Alex blinked. And then dropped his gaze to run, very thoroughly, up and down my body.
Wait. Did I win? Or did he?
I ducked the question by climbing into the shower stall. I washed quickly, and when I stepped out, Alex waited with a towel.
He was naked, the towel outstretched to wrap around me, conveniently hiding his goods.
He gently ran the towel over my face, pushing my hair back. The expression had shifted from horny to tender, and he toweled me off, rubbing my arms and back.
He twisted the towel around to my back and pulled it closed between us.
This time I broke, looking him up and down. Alex was all long and lean, the body of a man who worked out fastidiously for the health benefits and probably ignored a few too many meals while he worked.
He was hard, too, his cock bobbing between us. I let him hold the towel while I wrapped a hand around him. Alex tugged the towel, pulling me closer and reaching down to kiss me.
The kiss was languid until I squeezed my fist, and Alex threw the towel off behind me and scooped me up, carrying me to bed.
I bounced lightly on the bed. “We don’t have condoms.”
Alex pressed a kiss to my lips first before answering in deadpan, “Oh no. We’ll have to do other things.”
He reared back, tugging the duvet and linens out from under me. I raised my hips to help, and once we were both clear, Alex threw the covers back over us.
There was no preamble, no lazy meandering; Alex’s mouth was between my legs in an instant. I gasped, the shock of it warm and wet.
Alex liked to take things slow in all aspects of his life, and regardless of how fast his mouth had gotten there, he did not rush. He taunted and teased and slipped a finger in and then two until I was panting and shifting. Only then did he back off, kissing the smooth inside of my thighs and working his way up. His fingers stayed where they were, and I clenched around them.
My nipples were taut under the sheets, and Alex played with them, using teeth and tongue while pumping his hand.
“Alex,” I croaked out, “I can’t come without clit stimulation.
“Well,” he drawled, “right now I’m not trying to make you come.”
I groaned and closed my eyes, letting my head fall back. Alex kept up the stroking, kept teasing my nipples, building me up. And then suddenly he was gone.
I opened to find him hovering over me, his arms straight and planted on either side of my head. His lips were curved in a wide, naughty smile. “God, you are beautiful.”
My hands grasped either side of his body, feeling the ribs expand and collapse underneath. “You say such sweet things when you’re torturing me.”
He laughed, dropping down to his elbows. “Is it really that bad?”
“So bad it’s good.”
“Can I keep going?”
