Justin lifts himself, his hands braced on both sides of my head, looking down between us. I follow his gaze to our connection. His fierce eyes hold mine prisoner as he thrusts in and out slowly, his jaw hanging loose as his breaths come out short and hot. He penetrates deeper, lowering himself back down. Our searching tongues become more desperate.
Needy.
A gasp tumbles from my lips as he surges forward. Then I feel it, the unforgivable pressure building inside of me unleashes, and I lose myself in the release, crying out his name as my teeth clamp down on the skin of his shoulder.
Burying his face in my neck, he works to catch his breath and I do the same.
Without breaking our connection, he scoops me up from the bed. I like that about him. I don’t have to think or worry about what is going to happen next because he knows exactly what I need and when I need it.
Upon entering the bathroom, he pulls out of me and lowers me to the floor while he takes care of removing the condom and turning on the shower. He takes his time adjusting the hot and cold until he has it at just the right temperature and steam fills the room. Even doing such a simple task, his body is like a work of art, each muscle flexing in tandem with the effort to make sure the water is perfect. Once he has it set to his liking, he turns around and collects me in his arms again. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he steps inside, closing the curtain behind him. His arms are crisscrossed over my back, holding me to him as he steps under the spray, the hot water repelling off my neck.
On a slow turn, my back meets the cold tile wall, his hands moving to the backs of my thighs to hold me in place. His dark, hooded gaze claims mine as water rains down on his broad shoulders. Then his mouth descends, our wet bodies sliding against one another so perfectly. As if I am built to fit in this very spot. As if our mouths are meant to be one.
As if we are made to belong to each other.
“I don’t want anything between us this time, Selena. I’m always safe, and I can assure you that I’m clean. But right now, I want to feel all of you. Fucking need it. Don’t think I can breathe another second if I don’t.”
Reaching out, my palm fans his scruffy face. “I trust you.”
He kisses me long.
Deep.
Trying to convey some silent message. But I can’t decide if it’s a demand or a plea. I conclude it’s both when he bends his knees, holding me in place as his erection finds my aching center.
He eases inside of me slowly, stretching me in that beautiful way that he had before. Only this time, it feels different. His skin is hotter and the delicious intrusion holds an edge of pain that has me craving more.
So much more.
Holding my body in place, he thrusts in and out, slow at first but then each one grows deeper.
Harder.
Driving us both further and further toward something so much bigger. It’s too much, not nearly enough, and before I know it, we’re flying. I close my eyes, absorbing every single tremble of my body. The pleasure this man delivers. The safety and comfort of letting go.
I never, ever want it to end.
Justin pulls out of me, lowering his head to mine as he reaches between us to stroke himself through his release.
The sounds of our labored breaths fill the space between. Then his wet lips are on mine, soothing, gentle, sweet. Without a word, he lowers me to my feet then grabs the soap, lathering his hands with it before washing every inch of my skin, starting at my neck, moving down and across my collarbone and shoulders. My breasts. Abdomen. Between my legs, all the way down to my feet. Part of me feels like I should be more modest but I can’t with him. He demands to know every physical part of me, and I cannot deny him this silent request.
“Turn around.”
Once again, I do as he says, the gentle command of his voice is almost hypnotizing.
His soapy hands move up the backs of my calves toward my buttocks. A shiver runs through me when he gives them a gentle squeeze before moving up my ribs to my head. I lose his hands for a moment but only long enough for him to squirt a little shampoo into them. His fingers begin massaging my head, working up a lather. Leaning my head back, I lose myself in his touch. I’ve never felt so cherished, so adored in all my life.
He doesn’t say a word as he twists me around slowly to rinse my head. I close my eyes, not wanting to get soap in them, but I don’t miss the way he looks at me. I never do. The primal need to take care of me. I can sense it.
Feel it in his touch.
Once he finishes, he shifts me to the back and quickly washes himself. I look on unabashedly, wondering how on earth I got so lucky. I prayed every night for God to send me a savior but I could have never imagined a man as wonderful and beautiful as him.
Justin shuts off the water then opens the curtain to grab a towel on the shelf. He wraps it around my shoulders before stepping out to reach for his own. Once he has it in place, hanging low from his waist, he holds out his hand, helping me from the tub. Droplets of water still cover his upper torso.
My mouth waters.
“You keep looking at me like that and I’ll have to take you again, and trust me, you’re not ready for that yet.”
