A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. Water droplets clung to her eyelashes. Soap suds traced a path over her collarbone, down the slope of one perfect breast, disappearing into the valley between them. She was glistening, completely bare, and she made no move to cover herself. She just stood there in the doorway of the shower, the spray hitting her back, her eyes holding mine with an intensity that stole the breath from my lungs.
My body reacted instantly. My cock was already stiff from the sight of her, thickened to a full, painful erection, straining against my gym shorts. It was a sharp, urgent ache.
Her gaze dipped for a second, and her smile deepened as she stepped back, letting the full force of the water cascade over her. It washed the soap away, revealing the pink flush of her skin.
I couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to. My hands moved on their own, grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head, tossing it aside. My shoes were already off. I kicked my socks away, eyes never leaving hers.
I watched her for another moment, transfixed by the way water traced paths down her skin, disappearing into steam.
She glanced over her shoulder. Even through the foggy glass, I could see the teasing curve of her smile.
A slow smile tugged at my lips.
“Are you just going to stand there and watch?”
Her hands came up and smoothed over her breasts, thumbs brushing across her nipples, which tightened instantly into hard peaks. My mouth went dry. Her palms slid down her stomach, over the gentle curve of her hips, and then, so slowly it was torture, her fingers slid through her pussy.
My hand was on my cock, stroking myself through the fabric of my shorts. The rough material created an almost painful friction. I needed more. I needed skin.
“Touch yourself,” I commanded.
She didn’t hesitate. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second as her middle finger found her clit. A soft, shuddering breath escaped her lips. Then her eyes opened again, locking onto mine with a heat that mirrored my own. She was showing me, performing for me, and the raw intimacy, the trust, and the sheer fucking need in it made my head spin.
I shoved my shorts and boxer-briefs down my thighs in one jerky motion, freeing myself. The air was warm, but it felt cool against my heated skin. I wrapped my hand around my shaft, hissing at the contact. I was already leaking, the pre-cum making my glide smooth and slick. I matched her rhythm, fist pumping slowly, thumb swiping over my swollen head.
We engaged in a silent dialogue. A conversation of gasps and glances and the slick, wet sounds of our own hands. The muscles in her thighs tensed as she played with herself, and her head fell back against the tile when she pressed deeper.
“That’s it,” I growled. “Let me see you.”
She moaned, and her other hand came up to cup her breast, pinching her nipple. Her hips began to roll in tiny, desperatecircles against her own hand. I could see the tension coiling in her body, the flush spreading from her chest up her throat.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The distance was agony. With a final, rough stroke, I let go of myself and yanked the shower door open.
Hot water hit me, but I barely felt it as I stepped inside. The space suddenly became intimate, crowded. Her eyes were hazy, lips parted. I didn’t say a word as I cupped her face in my hands and crushed my mouth to hers.
The kiss was possessive and hungry as my tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting her. She met me with equal ferocity, hands coming up to tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. The water beat down on us, slicking our skin together.
My hands slid from her face, down her neck, over her shoulders. I palmed her breasts, feeling their weight, the hard nubs of her nipples digging into my palms. She gasped into my mouth, body arching into my touch. I broke the kiss, breath coming in ragged pants, and trailed my lips down her jaw, her throat, until I took one taut peak into my mouth.
She cried out, fingers tightening in my hair as my other hand kneaded her other breast. The water poured over us, making our skin slick. I moved lower, kissing down the plane of her stomach, tongue dipping into her navel as I dropped to my knees on the hard tile, hands gripping her hips.
I looked up at her. Her head was back, eyes closed, water streaming down her face. “Owen...” she breathed.
I didn’t use my mouth. Not yet. I replaced her hand with mine, fingers sliding through her soaked flesh. She was so wet, so hot. The water from the shower was nothing compared to the heat coming from her core. I found her clit and circled it with two fingers.
“Oh, god,” she whimpered, hips jerking.
“Watch me,” I commanded, eyes locked on hers as she looked down.
I pushed one finger inside her, then a second. She was tight, clenching around me, her inner muscles fluttering.
Her knees buckled, and I held her up with my other arm around her waist, fingers fucking her as my thumb kept pressure on her clit.
“You’re so fucking tight,” I gritted out. “So wet for me. Are you going to come on my fingers, Harlow? Let me feel it.”
She was babbling a stream of “yes,” “please,” and my name. Her hands were braced on my shoulders, nails digging in. Her thighs were trembling. The tension inside her was winding tighter and tighter.
I sped up, fingers pistoning into her as I pressed harder against her G-spot, thumb moving in frantic circles.
