All over.
Flames of heat lick at my limbs and trail after Ruslan’s hands while excitement prickles at the back of my neck each time his hands sweep up toward my breasts.
God, what is wrong with me?
Here he is doing an incredibly gentle, nice thing for me, and all I can think about is how sensitive my skin is, how good his touch is, and how I’m so turned on that I can almost taste the lust on the back of my tongue.
It must be the painkillers. Or some other medication they’ve got me on because there’s no way this is normal.
Ruslan’s on a roll now, telling me all about what he cooked for lunch and the card game he lost against Cassian. He could be reading out terms and conditions for all I care. His voice is absolutely honey to me. Subconsciously, my body starts to follow his movements as he washes up to my chest and around my breasts. The water dampens the edge of my bra as much as my core clenches and dampens my panties.
I’m so caught up in the arousing contact that I moan deeply, certain it’s just in my mind until Ruslan’s hands freeze just below my breasts.
A pulse of fear shoots through me from head to toe and I slowly open my eyes.
“Enjoying yourself?” Ruslan smirks down at me.
My cheeks flare immediately as if I’ve been struck. “Oh, my God,” I whisper, covering my face with my hands. “Oh, myGod,that was out loud, wasn’t it?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Ivy?”
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me, I was just?—”
“Ivy.”
“I was just so caught up in everything feeling nice and pain is distant and your hands were?—”
“Ivy.”
“Your hands wereeverywhereand your voice was so soothing and part of me thought maybe I was still dreaming and—ahh!”
Ruslan’s hand thrusts between my thighs and the warm, damp sponge presses firmly against my pussy, soaking my already drenched panties, and a trembling gasp shoots past through my palms. Humiliated, I peek through my fingers at him.
He’s still smiling at me, rather amused, and when our gazes lock, he presses the sponge firmer against my pussy and applies the warm pressure I’ve been craving.
“Oh, God,” I whisper again. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Ruslan replies, massaging my pussy with the sponge back and forth.
There’s no direct contact. Ruslan uses my own body against me and massages just enough that my outer lips shift and rub against my clit, turning my slowly building desire into rampant shocks of pleasure.
“This is a night for firsts,” Ruslan continues. “An erotic sponge bath? Look at you. I can see how hard your nipples are through your bra and your thighs are locked around my wrist like your life depends on it.”
I want to deny it. I want to tell him he’s wrong to spare myself the embarrassment, but the way he talks just turns me on more, and I fear anything out of me will make him stop what he’sdoing. All I can do is stare up at him and lower my hands, panting against my fingers.
“I was doing a nice thing for you and you turned it sodirty.”
He purrs that R sound, and my eyes roll as desire coils hot and low in my stomach. He’s taking me apart, stroke by stroke, and I can’t stand it.
Suddenly, his other hand catches my chin and he pinches my cheeks slightly. “Look at me, Ivy.”
I open my eyes immediately.
“Keep looking at me. I want to see what goes through your eyes when you orgasm from a sponge bath, of all things. Were you always this sensitive? I bet I could bounce you on my knee and you’d come, wouldn’t you? What about a motorbike? Would the vibrations make you soak the seat? Or is it just me that can do this, hmm?”
