Page 51 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

They sat in silence for a long while, breathing together. His hands moved in slow, aimless strokes along her arms, thumbs brushing the soft insides of her elbows, the delicate skin at her wrists. The day dissolved into steam and the sound of water lapping gently at porcelain.

“You’ve had a rough one,” he murmured eventually, lips grazing her temple. “Let me take care of you.”

Robyn smiled, hearing the roughness in his voice, like Tyler was barely holding on, wanting to touch her. The thought sent a thrill through her.

“I’d like that,” Robyn said, eyes drifting closed.

His hands slid higher, cupping her breasts with gentle reverence, thumbs circling until her nipples tightened beneath his touch. A different heat kindled low in her belly. She shifted, thighs parting just enough, and he noticed—of course he did.

His right hand drifted down, skimming her stomach, tracing the waterline before slipping between her legs. He parted her with aching slowness, the warm water turning every touch slick and effortless. She gasped as he circled her clit—light, teasing—sparks racing up her spine.

“Tyler…” Her voice came out breathy, surprised, and needy.

He kissed the side of her neck, his beard scraping pleasantly. “Tell me if it’s too much. We can stop anytime.”

“Don’t stop.” She arched into his hand, water lapping at the tub’s edge. “I need this. Need you.”

He worked her patiently—one finger, then two—curling just right to stroke that sensitive spot inside while his thumb maintained a steady, unhurried rhythm.

The warm water amplified every sensation, ripples spreading outward like her shallow breaths.

She gripped the tub’s rim, knuckles whitening against the cool porcelain, as pleasure rolled through her in slow, building waves—each crest washing away another layer of the day’s tension until her body felt weightless, suspended between his arms and the heat.

“I’ve dreamed of touching you like this,” he said, voice low and rough with restraint, the words vibrating against her ear. His lips brushed the damp skin behind it. “For months. When I was reading your stories late at night, flirting with you in messages… I pictured it was you. Your breath catching, your hips moving just like this. I’d imagine how you’d feel around my fingers, how you’d sound when you let go.”

She could feel him hard and insistent against her lower back, the thick length of him twitching faintly with every small shift of her body, but he made no move to rush, no demand for reciprocity. His free hand stayed splayed across her stomach, thumb tracing lazy circles over her navel, grounding her even as the pleasure coiled tighter.

Robyn’s head tipped back against his shoulder; a soft, broken moan escaped her. The confession hit her somewhere deep, knowing he’d wanted her that long, turned the heat in her belly into something sharper, more intimate. Her thighs trembled as she rocked down onto his hand, chasing the pressure. Water sloshed gently against the tub’s sides, steam curling around them like a private veil. “I… I thought about you too. Reading your replies, wondering what your hands would feel like… if you’d be gentle like this.”

A low, ragged groan rumbled in his throat at her confession. He tilted his head and pressed a slow, wet kiss to the sensitive curve where her neck met her shoulder, lips lingering and savoring her skin. His fingers slid a little deeper inside her while his thumb picked up speed—small, insistent circles that nudged her relentlessly toward the brink without quite letting her fall.

“You have no idea,” he whispered, voice thick and unsteady against her ear, “how many nights I fell asleep aching for you. How I dreamed of you, coming apart for me.”

The words nudged her right to the edge, and she let gravity do the rest.

Her hips rocked helplessly into his hand. He kept the same steady rhythm, fingers curling just right, thumb circling that one spot in slow, sure strokes that made it impossible to think about anything but the next sensation.

“Tyler…” Her voice broke on his name.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured against her skin. “Let go for me.”

The orgasm hit in a long, rolling rush. She cried out softly, body clenching around his fingers, thighs squeezing his hand as pleasure pulsed through her in wave after wave. Sharp at first, then softer, spreading warmth through every tight, overworked muscle. Water sloshed over the rim, a candle hissed somewhere near her feet, and still he didn’t let up until the last tremor had shivered out of her.

He eased the pressure gradually, fingers slowing, then finally stilling, holding her gently while the aftershocks flickered through her. She sagged back against him, boneless, her head tipped to his shoulder.

For a moment, she floated—drained and weightless—the roar of the day replaced by the sound of water and his steady heartbeat against her spine.

But as her breathing evened out and the edges of sensation dulled, something else sparked to life beneath the calm. She maneuvered herself to face him.

“I want you,” she whispered, the words trembling between them. She rocked forward, slow and deliberate, again. The friction sent a fresh shiver racing up her spine; she felt every ridge, every subtle pulse of him against her most sensitive skin. “All of you. Please.”

“You sure?” His voice was low, rough around the edges. “We don’t have to do this now.”

Robyn shook her head once, small but certain. She leaned in and kissed him—harder this time, deeper—pouring everything into it: the day’s exhaustion, the ache she’d carried, the trust that had been building between them for weeks. She tasted salt on his lips, the faint trace of soap from the bath, and underneath it all she sensed something new and fragile.

“I’m sure,” she whispered against his mouth. “I need you. Right now. Like this.”

She lifted herself slightly, just enough that the head of him nudged her entrance—warm, blunt pressure that made her inner muscles flutter in anticipation. Her breath hitched. She held there for a heartbeat, letting them both feel it.