“Come on, love. Let’s get you warmed up.”
I walk inside ahead of Cass, not having to be told twice. It’s supposed to be cold enough here in South Louisiana to snow onChristmas Day, which is way too freaking cold. Cass shuts and locks the door behind himself as I put a piece of foil over what’s left of the cake I made.
“I’m going to get in the shower.”
Cass kisses the top of my head and walks to our bedroom. I hear the shower turn on and smile. I turn off the lights and TV in the living room, then the kitchen, as I make my way to our room. The heater in the bathroom is on and I strip down and open the shower door.
This sight is one I willnevertire of. Cass, naked and soaking wet with suds running down his chest has my temperature rising before the hot water ever touches me. His eyes glide over my body appreciatively before he reaches for my hand and pulls me into the shower with him. He pulls my hair down from the messy bun I’ve kept it in all day. My long black hair falls over my shoulders and sticks to me where my skin was already wet.
“So beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” he growls, one hand fisted in my hair, the other cupping my ass cheek, pulling my body flush against his. The hot water beats down on his head, spraying over me in a miniature shower.
I can feel how hard he is, pressing into my lower stomach, and I do something I’ve never done in a shower before. I slide down on my knees and take him in my mouth. He closes his eyes when the heat of my mouth engulfs his hard cock, his head resting against the shower wall. I reach up and cup his balls in my hand and lightly toy with them as I move up and down, sucking softly at first then harder as I pick up my pace.
He grabs me by the hair and thrusts his hips, making me gag a little with how deep he thrusts into the back of my throat. His sly hum of satisfaction makes me want to smile. Asshole. He did that on purpose.
“Fuck…..me….” he whispers.
I suck harder. Faster. Wanting to pull him to the edge just to hold him there. When I feel him wanting to hold me still and take control, I push his hand back. He isn’t coming without me; he just doesn’t know it yet.
I swirl my tongue around his head before dipping down one more time. I slowly lift my mouth from him and ease back up until I’m almost eye level with him. His hands are greedy, almost as greedy as his lips when they crash into mine. He grabs my thighs viciously, slamming me against the wall of the shower. Before I know it, he’s entering me and my God is it fucking euphoric.
The shower head is just above us, spraying down on both of us, but that doesn’t stop Cass. His hands grip tight into my sides, holding me in place like a rag doll as he fucks me like he hasn’t had me in weeks. My hands are wrapped around his neck, trying to hold myself up.
He pins me against the wall with his body to readjust his hands. He grips the bottom of my thighs and lifts my legs up, repositioning me. When he fills me again, I gasp. He’s somehow deeper now.
“Oh fuck. Baby. Yes,” I moan.
Cass takes his time, fucking me slowly and watching me with a sexy smirk on his face. Every time he goes as deep as my body allows, his eyes get a little more hooded and he looks at me like I’m Thanksgiving dinner.
“Tell me. Tell me who fucks you right,” Cass commands, moving his hips faster.
I’m nearly screaming. “You.You do baby!”
I come around him without warning and when he realizes I’m coming, he fucks me even harder, making me come harder. He stills inside me and I feel him twitch with his own orgasm.
I rest my head on the shower wall, listening to both of our labored breaths. He eases out of me and slowly lowers my legsthen repositions so that he can set me down into a standing position.
“I swear you get tighter every fucking time.”
I grin at him and push him out of the way so I can wet all of my hair.
“That’s cause you make the muscles in there work so much,” I wriggle my eyebrows at him while I lather my hair in shampoo.
He shakes his head, rubbing a bar of soap over his body. I don’t know how he does it, but I can’t. I’ve got to use a wash cloth to bathe. I guess that’s why we go through so many damn bars of soap around here.
I quickly squeeze some body wash into my washcloth and scrub my body down before rinsing my hair and the rest of the suds off my body. Cass steps out of the shower before me and is already halfway dried off by the time I turn the water off and step out onto the cream colored fluffy rug I bought last week.
It’s soft and feels amazing on the bottom of my feet. I look up after a few seconds of wiggling my toes in the soft fabric and see Cass holding up a towel for me. I grin at him and he wraps me in it, and in his arms at the same time.
“It’s nice and warm for you.” He kisses my hair and we walk to the bed just like this. He let’s go of me to pull the comforter back on my side of the bed so that I can crawl right in. I run the towel over my body as fast as I can and then shake it in my hair to dry it off a bit. When I’m sure that’s as dry as I’m going to get, I crawl in bed and Cass puts the covers over me. He walks around to his side and crawls in, his arm around my waist as soon as he gets under the blanket.
He snuggles up to me and rests his chin on my shoulder. Within seconds, he’s snoring and I stifle a giggle. My baby falls asleep so quickly. I swear he doesn’t have thoughts sometimes.
I lay in bed for at least another hour before falling asleep to the rhythm of Cass’s breathing.
The bad thing about having sliding glass doors in your bedroom is when you forget to close the extra large long blinds, you wake up when the bright ass sun beams into your eyes first thing in the morning. I groan and shield my eyes from the bright light. Tossing the covers back, I cross the room and close the blinds quietly, so that I don’t wake a sleeping Cass.
I catch a glimpse of his face when I turn around. He’s still out, lips in a pout and eyebrows drawn together making wrinkles on his forehead. His nose is scrunched up a little and he looks sort of angry. I tiptoe across the room and crawl back in bed. I check the time on my cell phone and I almost throw it. It’s not even eight o’clock in the damn morning yet. On the bright side, though, it’s Christmas Eve.
