“I don’t think that’s true, Wes.” I smile softly. “But right now, I don’t want to be touched. I want to be desired.”
“Baby, I’m desiring you so hard it fucking hurts.”
My eyes drop again, cheeks heating at the sight of the impressive bulge beneath his shorts. “Show me?”
His hands shake as they reach for the tie at his waistband. He unravels it, slowly pulling apart the Velcro that holds them together before his shorts drop to the floor, and I’m met with his strong, powerful body. Despite being covered in water, my mouth goes completely dry at the sight of his cock. Thick, hard,huge.
“No way is that fitting inside me.” The words come out choked. My eyes snap to his, horror sluicing through me because I had zero intention of voicing that aloud. “I... I didn’t mean to suggest?—”
He smirks. “I think we could make it work.”
I swallow my traitorous tongue, continuing to soak in the raw perfection that is his body. When my eyes find his cock again, he pulses, and though his palm remains on his thigh, the tendons in his hand flex with need.
“You can touch it,” I whisper.
God, I want to watch him. He’s so big, so rugged. Yet tender and deep and soft and rough. A delicious contradiction. I want to see him when I close my eyes. I want to imagine his hand is mine. My mouth. My body. I’ve been starved for sensation, for yearning, for an ache like this.
“Touch yourself,” he begs. “Show me.”
It’s all rushing back to me, everything I’ve been suppressing for months, terrified I’d never feel again. I’ve not been seen naked by another person in so long, but I haven’t beenlookedat like this ever.
After losing so much of myself, I thought I’d never find my way back. Safe vulnerability, comfortable exposure. Yet somehow, in a matter of weeks, the man in front of me plucked every jagged edge of my shattered pieces, and created something new.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I skate a hand down my chest, gripping one breast and rolling my peaked nipple between my fingers. The other slides over my hips, fingers dipping between my legs to tease my clit. The self-disgust that typically begins to rip at my flesh when I reach this point doesn’t appear. All I see is my own desire reflected back at me through his eyes, all I feel is the expression on his face—desperate and devastated.
Weston grabs his cock, swiping a thumb over his tip, spreading the moisture beaded there down to his base before pumping hard. A rough groan escapes his lips at the movement.
My lids flutter, eyes fighting to stay open as I brush over my swollen bud. I’m fucking drenched, and it has nothing to do with the water pouring down around me. “Wes?—”
A door slams nearby, voices echo, floating through the open sky above our heads.
We both freeze, and when his eyes widen with shock, I know mine are mirroring them.
“It’s like... the dick doesn’t suddenly taste like whipped cream, the whipped cream just now tastes like a dick. You know?”
I grimace at the sound of my aunt’s undeniably recognizable voice.
Wes snorts, and I lurch forward, removing all distance between us as I clamp my hand over his mouth. A muffled groan vibrates against my palm, and my entire body flushes when I realize my bare chest is pressed against his. His hard cock throbs at my stomach.
“Yeah, I can get behind most kinks, but I’ve never understood food play.”That would be my mother. It’s quiet for a tick before I hear, “Is the outdoor shower running?”
Fuck.
“Yeah, Mom. It’s me!” I call.
“Why are you showering out here?” Her voice isrightoutside the stall.
“Uh... I didn’t want to track sand inside the house?” I say it like a question.
“Oh.” She hums. “Well, I appreciate that. I should make your father start doing that.”
Weston’s eyes flare with panic.
“Where is Dad?” I ask, attempting nonchalance.
“Dishes,” she responds. Wes and I both breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m doing a load of laundry. I was going to grab some beach towels.”
“I threw some in earlier!” I call back.
