I dig my fingers in a little firmer, and she moans again.
“Good girl.”
“Oh fuck, Miles.”
“Almost done, baby.”
“No . . .” she whines.
Fuck. If those are the sounds a massage gets me, I’m desperate to hear what she sounds like wrapped around my cock.
Fuck.
Retracting my hands despite her protest, I rinse the shampoo from her hair. It takes a while, and she watches me with those big brown eyes, her head turned back, as I rinse the last of the suds from the ends.
“I think I’m clean, sir.”
“I—”
She turns back, hands capturing my face. I take over the kiss and walk her back a step until her back meets the tiled wall.
Over the claw-foot tub is awkward. So, hauling her to my hips, I step out of the bath and pad to the bedroom.
“Where are you taking me?” she breathes.
“Wherever you want, London.”
Her eyes study mine. “As far as you can.”
Christ.
Still dripping wet, I walk us onto the mattress on my knees. Laying her down, I spread those pretty thighs with a hand while suckling her nipple into my mouth.
Her back arches off the bed instantly.
And I’m rewarded with one of those sweet sounds that slips past her lips. Sinking two digits into her soaked pussy, I pump my fingers, swirling my thumb over her clit.
Hands crawl through my hair as she writhes underneath me, desperation contorting her face.
Good girl, London.
“I need to taste you, beautiful. I’ve been desperate for you since last time.”
She moans, her head nodding as her hand leaves my hair to grip the duvet.
I crawl backward, spreading her thighs a little further. She’s fucking soaked for me, her pussy glistening with need.
Wasting no time, I send my tongue through her center, and she cries out. I pin her hips to the bed with my hands and suckle her clit.
“Fuck, Miles . . .”
We’ll get there, beautiful.
I promise.
She writhes with every lick, every suckle and nip I lay down on her. And a man has never witnessed anything more intoxicating. London in pleasure is...everything.
Releasing my grip of one hip, I send my fingers inside her wet heat.
