On the brink of climax, his hand slides my fingers over my clit. ‘Like that?’
I moan and nod wildly as I buck against our hands, hard and demanding as the intensity builds. Crying out, I writhe against him skin to skin, pushing and convulsing against our hands. I can’t think. About anything. Not about his perceptions, about awkwardness, my participation, or my porn-worthy moans. I can process nothing beyond this moment, as my mind and body explodes. I spasm around our entwined fingers, calling out his name as he whispers how good I am, how jealous his cock is of our fingers, and all the while, his teeth slide over my skin.
Holding me in his arms, his chest pressed against my back, the water continues to filter down my body, as he pretty much holds me up. Hot air envelopes us, my receding orgasm and rapid breathing filling my ears. But slowly, my equilibrium restores, and I stretch languorously against his body as I turn.
‘Was that... Shakespeare?’ I bury my face against his hard, wet chest.
‘Too much? You prefer dirty cock talk?’ He laughs, kissing the crown of my shaking head. ‘Elizabethan porn.’ His hands run down my sides and cup the cheeks of my arse. ‘Venus and Adonis sprung to mind.’
‘Ah, but unlike the hapless hero,youhave already put out.’ My voice is raspy as I run a finger down his torso, edging into the soft, fine hair. ‘And look, something else has, er, sprung?’ Trailing my hand lower, I take his stiffness into my hand.
‘Mmm, dirty talk, I approv—’
Words go unfinished, catching in his throat as I tighten my fingers along his hard, sleek length. He exhales harshly, jaw slackening as his eyes slowly close. My reserve forgotten, I feel emboldened and powerful. I am no ingénue; I am responsible for rendering this man speechless. The feeling is heady, potent, and a bit of a surprise.
My fingers follow the rivulets of water making their lazy journey along the caramel of his skin. Bending, I flick my tongue against his silken head before slowly licking the smooth skin from the base up, tracing the water’s path with my tongue.
He exhales a harsh breath, an entirely male sound, gaze hooded and dark as I take him into my mouth. I push my lips down, eyes cast upwards, watching his mouth slackening, the water cascading down his chest, feeling his torso twitch in response to my mouth. I draw in water as I drink in Kai: the symbolism isn’t lost on me.
One hand rises to the wall at his side as I tighten my grip and increase tempo, swirling my tongue against him as I work my hand. I’m empowered in knowing that I can affect him in such a way. It drives me on. Turns me on.
‘Ah, Kate...fuck... like that...yesss.’
From Shakespeare to incoherency, his mouth slackens as my own works still. Hips flexing, he pushes his free hand into my hair as I run mine to his solid behind, taking him in deeper. I build my slow, methodical motion into something urgent, his wet lashes fluttering as he exhales the sweetest, most desperate moan.
His hand tightens and he flexes tentatively, his cheeks contracting against my palms. Then, all at once, his body stiffens. I raise my gaze.
Amber eyes flash like flames as they open quite suddenly.
‘Coming,’ he rasps.
Oh.What’s the etiquette here?
Should I stop? Do I want to?
One glance at him and I know the answer.
With both hands now almost tenderly held at the back of my head, he groans as the thick, warm liquid pulses out of him.Brackish. Viscous. I swallow uncertainly as aftershocks rock through him, his hands tightening.
His movement recedes, laboured breath beginning to regulate, and I withdraw with as much élan available.Given my position, it isn’t much.
Staring up at him, I try to repress a small but triumphant smile as he pulls me to my feet, his mouth brushing mine.
‘Let’s go back to bed.’
