For once, I don't know what to do with my hands. If anyone ever told me I'd have the woman of my fucking dreams in my lap and not be able to touch her, I'd have laughed in their face.
But here I am. Wondering how much she had to drink at dinner. Wondering if finding out about Ambrose has somehow made her crave acceptance so badly that she'll take it from anywhere, even from someone she hates.
I don't want her to regret this.
"Trouble," I mumble between kisses, my chest heaving as my entire body comes alive from the feel of her slippery against me in the hot steam. Andfuck,it takes every ounce of willpower to keep my hands to myself. "I don't want you to do something you?—"
"I won't. Please, Atticus.Touch me," she murmurs, and something inside of me snaps. "Please,I need you to?—"
I kiss her like a man starved, making her whimper when I wrap a hand around the back of her neck and pull her closer to me. Needing the press of her everywhere I've ached to feel her for weeks.
Fuck, she smells so good.
I need to taste her.
I'm dying to taste her.
Our lips part, and I press a kiss to her jaw. Using my grip on the back of her neck, I angle her head to the right so I can kiss and suck a path down to her collar as her fingernails dig into my biceps and her bathing-suit-covered tits heave against my chest.
My cock is already solid as steel, and I know she must feel it against her because I didn't bother with fucking shorts.
I tug the string at the base of her neck and lean her back against the tile seat as my mouth draws lower and the little dark triangles of her bikini top fall away.
She arches violently into me as my mouth closes around a nipple, tongue swirling and flicking mercilessly at the sensitive bud.
She squirms against me, and the movements of her body slipping against my cock make me see white, and before I'm conscious of it, I've started to shift against her, my body seeking the friction of hers.
I groan against her steam-warmed flesh, not stopping my teasing assault of her nipples until she's shaking in my hands.
But I need more. I'm starving for her.
Gripping her around her waist, I lift her with ease to sit on the edge of the tile seat and shift forward on my knees before her, cock dripping precum all over the floor.
Her fingers find my hair, and she grips tightly when I shift her knees apart and press my face into her bikini, drunk on the scent and feel of her even through the fabric.
"A-Atticus," she whines, her hips rolling against my face. Unwilling to remove my hands from around her waist yet, I use my teeth to bite the silky fabric and am rewarded with the sound of it tearing as I jerk my head to get it out of my fucking way.
Then I'm on her. Burying myself in her.
She gasps and writhes, and I have to hold her still so I can feast properly. Her grip on my hair tightens painfully, but fuck if it doesn't make me want to eat her alive even more.
Her thighs bracket my head, squeezing as I flick and spear and swirl my tongue, groaning as her taste fills my mouth.
She's soaked, and I don't want to waste even a drop.
The sound of skin on skin echoes off the tile, obscene and perfect.
The steam makes everything wet and hot, and my head is spinning from being in here too long, but I don't care. The devil himself couldn't drag me from this room.
I slip two fingers into her, fucking her with them to increase the sensation.
“I’ve thought about this every night,” I growl between vicious licks. “Dreamed about how you’d taste. The sounds you’d make.”
I flick my tongue against her, fucking her faster with my fingers. “So fucking sweet.” I flick it again and she gasps. “I could eat this pussy for hours.”
When I close my mouth over her again, Aurora shifts her hips, and I let her. She rolls into my mouth, fucking my face how she needs to. Chasing her release.
I flatten my tongue and rub her clit with it ruthlessly as her movements turn stilted and jerky, and fuck, my cock is going to burst. It pulses, aching with how badly I want her. So sensitive that when the tip of it brushes against the tile seat, I hiss and my muscles coil.