Chapter Fifty-Two
‘You shower first.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ I try to mask the sudden disappointment that we aren’t heading in there together. This shower is certainly big enough for twoanda little mischief.
Kai’s expression morphs from relaxed to surprised to knowing in a fraction of a second; nought to sexy in the blink of an eye. But so much for the mysticism that is woman. I must’ve been the last in the line for womanly mystique. I smile, slightly manically, I imagine, then bend to hide my face, sliding off my runners with the tips of my toes. Cheeks still stinging, I head to the bathroom, closing the door behind me without once looking back.
I know I’m blowing it all out of proportion, but I feel like I’ve been somehow spurned. I can’t help but take it a little personally, especially after the innuendo of “later” and stuff. Of course, it’s been a very hot afternoon and maybe he’s tired.Or maybe his interest in me is on the wane.Swallowing the disconcertion, I strip from my sand coated clothes and drop them to the floor. Switching on the shower, I steel myself for the rush of water from the shower head at the wall but instead, water cascades in an almost rainfall effect from above. Steam builds, fogging the air as I reach for the posh bottle of hotel shampoo.
‘Let me.’
I physically start as Kai steps into the shower. My eyes flick between his face and much lower, unintentionally falling to the sharp angles of his hips, the hardness beneath his skin. I follow the muscles indented from knee to thigh joining the delicious ‘v’ at the point of his hips.It’s a whole other kind of muscle memory.Beads of water cling to his skin as he reaches for the shampoo himself, pouring a generous amount into his palm, he begins to massage it into my scalp.
‘Head back,’ he murmurs, tilting my head with a hand beneath my chin.
Relaxing into his body, skin momentarily sticks to skin as his firm fingers work against my skull. I close my eyes as he soon begins to rinse the suds from my hair. Relaxed by his silent attentions, I melt under his touch, sighing reflexively as his hand moves down the column of my neck and down to my breasts. The shuddering noise echoes in the small space, the air swirling around us like an erotic fog.
Hands against my shoulders, he turns me, our mouths just a kiss away from each other. I find my hands stroking the wetness from his back and hips and in just one step he’s there, covering my mouth with his. He wants me and I’m an idiot, the evidence springing between us as we kiss. The tenor of our kiss changes in an instant, deepening as lips press against lips, as I open and welcome his thrusting tongue. I move my hand between us, to the satin of his shaft, running my fingers lightly across his length.
‘No patience,’ he whispers moving my hand from between us, his own skimming my thigh and coming to rest behind my knee. Lifting it, he lays it against his own, his hand between us, teasing my opening, slick with water and desire. My hands find his broad shoulders as I rock up to him in an obvious plea.
‘What am I going to do with you?’ he admonishes, his mouth curled against mine.
‘I could think of something.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Fuck me.’
Fuck me, I’m brazen. The words reverberate around my head and the confines of the shower. Not really one for the suggestion box, I can’t quite believe I said that out loud. Shouldn’t I feel embarrassment in the place of this thrill?
‘Oh, I had planned to. Later.’ His kisses become small, nipping bites across my jaw as his fingers continue to tease. ‘But I could make a concession,’ he growls, pulling back. ‘Ask me nicely.’ His lazy gaze burns down at me as one finger glides higher and more firmly along my ribbon of flesh.
I make a noise, part moan, part plea, as his finger begins to circle and pet. My hands tighten, my body writhing against his hand.
‘You can do better than that,’ he suggests, all growly. My legs weaken, hands gripping tighter still, pulling him to me as my forehead falls to his chest. ‘Ask me nicely,’ he repeats. ‘Good girls say please.’
‘Please.’ My answer is instant, my voice heavy with need. I imagine it swirling through the air, coating us, as I continue shamelessly to rock against his hand. ‘Please,’ I plead as his fingers continue to work me.
With a hand on my shoulder, he turns me swiftly, pushing me flat against the wet tiles. Water courses down my back, the cool of the tile under my cheek as I breathe rapidly, adrenaline now chasing the yearning running through my veins. Our skins seal in the humidity as he pushes his body against mine, my breasts trapped hard against the shower wall. Head lowering, he licks hotly along my neck, tasting the water from my skin. Taking the sensitive lobe of my ear into his mouth, he grazes it and I gasp, the pressure resonating lower.
‘Bend forward,’ he rasps in my ear as he moves back. My hands slide from the wall as I half turn, my eyes following him to where he stands behind me, smirking. I rest my cheek back against the wall, almost perturbed by, what seems like, his smiling censure.Perturbed and turned on, the feeling growing with each swallowed breath.
My body starts a moment later as his hands grasp my hips, pulling the bottom half of my body away from the wall.
‘Palms on the tiles.’ His tone is bass, harsh as he pushes on my head, bending me forward. ‘You want to be fucked. I want to fuck you like this.’ I can feel the length of him rubbing against the crease of my arse; my body stiffens, my eyes shooting wide as I stutter ‘no’, half turning again.
‘No,’ he agrees, ‘not today.’
My body relaxes as his hand caresses the round of my cheeks, his hard cock pressing there before moving down. As he pushes inside, the water hinders with our lubrication initially, skin dragging against skin. My hands draw down the wall, nails scraping the ceramic as I call out incoherently.
Adjusting himself, his hands still at my hips before he pulls back and thrusts inside in one smooth thrust.
‘It’s going to be deep and fast, sweetheart.’
His caressing tone contrasts with the implication of his dark, but welcome words. I moan softly, skin pebbling despite the warmth of the water as one of his hands shifts to the wet hair curtaining my face. With a tenderness belying his earlier words, he moves the strands clinging to my cheek, brushing them with his fingers and gathering them to the back of my neck. His fingers curl there, twisting the locks around his hand until it hurts to resist. Once again, I’m shocked and surprised at this action, by my reaction to this action, as my jaw slackens, my head falling back onto his fisted hand.
‘Remember you asked for this. No, youbegged.’
