“I just realized this is the second massage I’ve had this week.”
He kneaded deeper into a knot near my shoulder blade. “Better not have looked like this.”
I laughed. “Jealous?”
“Possessive,” he corrected. His thumbs swept down either side of my spine now, following the line of my vertebrae. “There’s a difference. Jealous men are insecure. Possessive men don’t like other people touching their treasures.”
I tilted my head back farther, giving him better access to my neck. “Parker gave me a facial in my living room. That’s it.”
He hummed thoughtfully, his hand sliding around to cup the underside of my breast. Casually. Like he was just holding an apple. Although, truth be told, I was working with a lot more than apples. Papayas, maybe?
His thumb brushed idly over my nipple, making it tighten further.
“Parker can massage you all you want,” he murmured against my throat, kissing the pulse point there. “Just please, don’t go climbing into a tub with her.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Just territorial.” His other hand drifted lower, fingers trailing down my soft, rounded belly then lower still. My thighs parted instinctively as they reached the apex, sliding through the water to find my folds. “And you’re naked in my lap. And already wet. After three days of me being very, very good about keeping my hands to myself.”
“Bennett.”
“Shh,” he whispered. “Let me.”
He didn’t push inside me right away.
Just stroked featherlight passes over my clit. Then moved down to circle my entrance, gathering the slickness that had nothing to do with bathwater.
I rocked my hips up into his touch. He rewarded me by slipping one finger inside, curling it just enough to make my breath hitch.
“Fuck, I missed this,” I murmured into the steam.
“Me, too, baby. I didn’t want to rush this,” he continued, voice thick with restraint. “Didn’t want our first time back together to be me taking something when my head was still fucked up. I wanted to be sure I could give you everything. No fear or shadows.”
“You’re here now,” I whispered. “And I want all of you.”
“All of me.”
He added another finger, stretching me slowly, letting me feel the delicious burn. My walls fluttered around the intrusion.
He pumped them in and out of me, slow at first and then deeper, curling on every upstroke while his thumb found my clit again. The water sloshed around us, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.
“More.” I gasped, hips rocking shamelessly now, chasing the rhythm of his hand. “Please, give me more.”
He groaned low in his throat and slid a third finger inside me. The stretch was intense, filling me in a way that made my eyes roll back. He held still for a second, letting me adjust to the three thick fingers buried inside me.
Fuck.
I had never been stretched like this, not even with my toys. My walls fluttered helplessly around the intrusion. There was no escaping how much he was giving me. The pressure was exquisite, almost too much yet exactly what I craved. The slight burn only made the pleasure sharper, hotter.
“That’s it,” he whispered against my ear, voice dark and reverent. “Look at you taking three fingers for me like a good girl. So fucking tight, stretching around me like you were made for it.”
I whimpered, hips rocking forward in small, helpless circles, chasing more even though I was already impossibly full.
“You feel that?” he murmured, slowly withdrawing almost all the way before sliding back in. Letting me feel every ridge, every goddamn knuckle as he filled me again. “That’s just my fingers, baby. Imagine my cock. Thicker, longer. Stretching this pretty, little pussy wide. You’ll take every inch, won’t you, baby?”
“Yes,” I gasped, voice breaking on the word.
“You’ll let me fuck you open until you’re crying my name and coming so hard, you soak the sheets?”
