Goddamn you, Simon.
How the hell did he resist that?
Her shirt and her skirt weighed heavy, uncomfortable, and she ached to peel them off. This was a mess. Against her better judgment, she still wanted Simon so badly.
There was a way to take care of both the revenge and the craving for Simon she hadn’t been able to shake all day long. Much longer, really.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Marianna headed for the bathroom.
She rested her hand on the door handle, took a deep breath and yanked the door open. And froze. Gaped.
Steam filled the room in thick, fantasy-world clouds. Simon’s huge naked body was in the middle of those clouds, propped against the tile wall. One of his hands cupped his balls, and the other was wrapped around his huge erection. His head jerked up, and he met her gaze, his eyes crackling with want. Oh, my God. Her eyes drifted down over the hard muscles of his chest, his straining biceps and his long, hard cock. Spikes of heat shot through her body.
The night had just taken a whole new turn.
“Fuck, Mari,” he bit out, grimacing. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
She smiled. “You know exactly what I’m doing here.”
He clenched his jaw, but he didn’t take his hand away. His eyes burned white-hot. Oh, did she ever want that dirty, satisfying fuck, and so did he. And there was no mistaking his gaze, even though the steam of the shower: he was teetering past the point of resisting.
His hard muscles were alive with tension, flexing. His biceps strained, and his stomach moved with each short, harsh breath. She let her gaze drop from there, to his huge tip. He must be close.
Time to finish this game.
Slowly, Marianna brushed her hand down her neck, lingering there before she undid her top button. His gaze traveled lower as she continued, and his mouth parted as she shrugged off the silky shirt. She let the straps of her bra fall a little, revealing the tops of her breasts.
“Did I get you worked up, Simon? So worked up that you couldn’t hold off until tonight?” As she spoke, she unhooked her bra and lowered it until her nipples peeked out from the lacy material. “Are you sure you don’t want to be touched?”
The muscles in his jaw twitched, and the tendons in his fingers strained. He said nothing. Bursts of heat rushed through her. He was about to give in.
Do it.
Marianna let go of her bra. “You want to get off in front of me or you want me to help?”
Simon groaned and gave his cock a hard tug. He scowled a little, then did it again.
Don’t stop.
Damn, she couldn’t have dreamed up a better scene if she had tried. Every stroke, every thrust of his thick erection was stoking the inescapable fire between them higher. She unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the ground in the heap of other clothes. Then she slid her panties over her hips and down her legs.
Simon swore under his breath as his molten gaze traveled down her body. He gave himself another stroke, this one a full commitment to the task. Her own body was on fire. Would he get himself off in front of her? His expression twisted with pleasure, moving past the point of stopping.
Licking her lips, she continued. “I could get you off with my hand, or I could get on my knees and suck you off. But either way, I have to touch you.”
His hand moved again, up and down, faster, and he groaned louder. His eyes were fixed on her, wild and intense. He bared his teeth a little.
“You want me to touch you, Simon?”
His hand stopped, and he groaned. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”
Oh, yes.
This was what she wanted, but hell if she wasn’t going to draw this satisfaction out a little longer. Marianna moved her hand between her legs and teased herself. She was already so worked up, pleasure coiling deep inside.
“It’s making me wet, Simon,” she said, “thinking about all the ways I want to touch you.”
He gave his cock a couple hard, fast jerks. His eyes were heavy and he was breathing hard. Marianna was dizzy with desire. If she kept this up any longer, her legs were going to collapse.
