I have to bite back a moan.
“You like that,” he murmurs, voice rough against the shell of my ear and hands slipping sensually over my front with soapy ease.
It’s not a question, so I don’t answer. Which is fine since Robbie’s not waiting on me. He’s already working his way to the other side, his tongue lightly tracing the taut tendon that runs from my ear to my injured collarbone. When he finds a spot that makes my breath hitch—right over my jugular—he lingers, sucking gently at first with slow, deliberate pressure that rips a whimper from my throat.
The wet heat of his mouth, the faint scrape of his stubble,the way his fingers flex against my sides, holding me in place… it’s a lot. Too much. Not enough.
My cock is hardening again, and I can’t help but feel his against the top of an ass cheek.
A tiny puff of air escapes me. Barely a breath. But he notices. And I notice him noticing.
One of his hands slides up to the base of my throat, holding me steady while his mouth continues its slow, methodical exploration. He’s not just kissing me. He’s cataloging my reactions. Marking my shivers and every involuntary roll of my hips as I rock back against him. It’s so patient—soRobbie—it feels more intimate than anything I’ve ever done with anyone.
When he finally bites down on the tendon in my neck—sharp, then soothed by the flat of his tongue—I can’t hold back a moan.
Robbie’s answering groan vibrates against my skin. “I want to touch you.” His voice is low and unsteady in my ear.
“Y-youaretouching me?—”
“More, Ames. I want more. I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
I feel like that should be my line, but I manage to nod my head convulsively. “Yes. Yeah. Anywhere.Please.”
He pours more bodywash out, and I can’t lie, I’m bracing for those slick fingers to head right for my cock because I’m hard and aching and desperate for it.
But instead, he takes a step back, and I feel the glide of his fingertips from my waist, down the curve of my spine, to the sensitive skin just above my crack. One of his hands still presses against my chest, still keeps me from stepping too far away from him.
“You want me to touch you here, Amesie?” His voice is rough, his breath hot against my shoulder. His finger slides down through the cleft until it skates over the sensitive skin of my hole.
Fuck.Fuck. My throat locks, words dissolving as Robbie lifts my good arm and pins it against the tile wall directly under the pounding spray. Then both his hands are on me, spreading my ass cheeks apart, the cool air a shock before the heat of his body presses close behind me.
“Fuck,” Robbie breathes roughly. “I want to touch you everywhere. You’re so fucking sexy like this.”
“Oh my god.” My voice cracks as his finger circles my hole with slow, maddening pressure. How does he even know how to do this? The next sound that comes out of me is unintelligible.Wanton.
“Tell me you’re okay.” It’s the mostRobbiestatement ever, but right here, right now, it’s also fucking erotic. When was the last time someone was this focused on me? I don’t know. I can’t think.
He pushes one slick finger inside me, the stretch a delicious burn, and I have to press my forehead to my arm to keep from coming apart right then and there.
My brain stutters, unable to compute that this is Robbie—not some lurid fantasy I’ve conjured, but theactual man—who’s opening me up, who’s learning my body, who wants to touch me this way.
“This wasn’t the next lesson,” I rasp stupidly, my voice high and desperate. “Too advanced.”
We should stop. I know we should stop. Robbie doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s jumping off a cliff without knowing what’s waiting for him under the surface of the water below.
The sound of his low laugh is familiar in a way that makes me feel light and floaty. “I’m not a probie, Ames.”
Something about that unsettles me. “You’ve done this before?”
I don’t want to say her name, bring Lissa into this precious space reserved only for us, but I can’t help but wonder if he’d ever done this with her. If I’m not his first.
He splays a hand on the center of my chest again, avoiding all my bruises, and pulls me back against him until his lips brush my ear. “Only you, baby. I promise.”
I squeeze my eyes closed to hide the relief, but he can probably feel it. Sometimes I hate how well Robbie knows me. How well he can read my every reaction.
“It’s okay if it isn’t,” I insist.
“So stubborn,” he murmurs, moving his finger deeper and then dragging it out slowly as if to torture me. “Tell me how to find the right spot. I want to make you feel good.”
