Page 40 of Protecting Salvation

Shucking his clothes quietly and efficiently, he stepped forward. His cock was harder than it had ever been but he resisted the urge to give in and ease the ache. This was about Peyton, about showing her what she meant to him.

His hand slid the door open and her body came into view, her lush, pale skin glistening with water. The arch of her back was so perfect and strong as it gave way to wide, curvaceous hips and an ass that wouldn’t quit. His hands itched to touch her but he held back, giving himself time to take her in, to enjoy seeing her naked for the first time. Toned thighs, shapely calves, and pretty but dainty ankles ended in impossibly tiny feet, the toenails tipped in bright pink polish.

“You just gonna stare or are you going to follow through on those promises?”

Hurricane felt his lips tip into a smile. She was fucking sexy when she let her fiery side out to play. Stepping in, he closed the door and the steam hit him as Peyton looked over her shoulder at him, all sultry smiles and promises. His hands palmed her hips as he spun her gently and pushed her back against the tile. He held her in place as he let his gaze travel over every perfect inch of her body.

Pink rosy tipped nipples, hard and aching for his tongue, full breasts with enough weight in them to give them a perfect teardrop shape. She had a dipped-in waist with hips that flared out, and his thumbs rubbed slow circles into each hip making her moan softly. As he studied her she did the same and he almost preened from the needy look on her face.

Her eyes went wide when she reached his cock and he chuckled as her mouth fell open.

“Close your mouth, sugar, or I’m gonna put it to work.”

His fingertip tapped her chin and she complied but he was stuck on her perfect pussy, hair trimmed short and just begging for his mouth. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Using his finger he swiped it along her slit, his eyes almost crossing with how wet she was for him. He pushed one digit inside her, feeling her heat tighten around him and groaned. She was going to fucking strangle his dick. His cock throbbed at the thought, a desperation to rush things ate at him but he fought it.

Slowly he withdrew, using the same finger to press a slow circle against her clit. Her body arched, her head falling against the tile on a moan. Eyes on her face he again withdrew before holding her gaze and inserting the finger covered in her essence into his mouth. She tasted better than he’d imagined. Sweet, musky, the scent of watermelon messing with his senses, transferring the flavour to her alone.

The space was small, especially for a big man like him but he dropped to his knees. His fingers dug into her hips and he lifted her as she yelped, her legs clamping around his shoulders as he bent his head to her pussy and ate like a fucking starving man. Her hands landed on his head, her soft pillowy thighs around his ears as he licked and sucked, fucking her with his tongue, sucking her clit between his lips in long pulls as water rained down on them.

His fingers flexed against her ass and he promised himself he’d give that sexy ass more attention later, but as her legs began to shake, her fingers in his hair began to tug. Whimpers and incoherent words fell from her lips and he glanced up to see her watching him with hooded eyes and he knew this had just become his favourite view. She was utter perfection and as his name, his real name, fell from her lips, her body convulsed and she came. Her climax flooded his mouth and he licked up every drop, watching her chest heave until her body went slack, but he wasn’t done, and he knew he never would be.

Letting her legs go he kept hold of her as he stood, loving the flushed look on her face.

“Uh, what was that?”

Hurricane raised a brow in question. “What was what, sugar?”

Peyton feathered her hands over his pecs, stroking him, his muscles jumping in response. “You had that talent all along and kept it to yourself? I should be mad with you but you promised me more orgasms.”

As she said the last word her hand slid down his wet body and gripped his cock, causing a strangled groan to slip up his throat. “Jesus, woman, your hand feels good.”

Her grin was full of energy and life, and it was addictive, something he wanted to give her forever.

“So does your mouth, but you promised me your cock.”

Peyton was always so proper. She didn’t swear much and blushed when Aoife and the girls began talking about sex, so hearing her say the word cock had a major effect on him. He dipped his head and took her mouth, kissing her hard, pouring all the emotions of the day into it. The fear, the frustration, and she let him. She met him, opening her mouth for his tongue, her hand stroking him as he pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger until she moaned.

“Out.”

He turned off the water and stepped from the shower, grabbing a warm towel and wrapping it around her before sinking to one knee and drying her legs, moving up over her belly to her gorgeous breasts. He kept going though, standing to dry her hair as she watched him with a look of trust and wonder in her eyes that he wasn’t sure he deserved.

Gently squeezing the water out of her hair, he handed her the towel and she began to dry it as he quickly towelled off. Dropping the wet cloth into a washing basket he took her hand and smirked because her eyes were glued to his cock as she bit her nail.

“Guess you’re big all over, then.”

A chuckle broke out as he swept her into his arms, making her giggle as he strode to her bed. “Don’t worry, sugar, it’ll fit. You were made for me.”

Her lips found his neck as he laid her out on her bed and crawled over her, kissing every inch as he did. Pushing her thighs apart he kissed the soft skin where her thigh met her hip and then up her belly, avoiding her wet pussy, and drawing out the pleasure as he kissed every inch. As he sucked a nipple into his mouth, her body arched, her fingernails raking his scalp and making him forget that he had a fucking tumour in his brain. When he was with Peyton like this, he didn’t feel like half a man with a ticking time bomb, he felt like a god. She made him feel like a god.

His cock notched at her entrance and he pulled his hips back. “I need to grab a condom.”

Her fingers flexed on his shoulders. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean. My sex life has been like a barren wasteland since my attack.”

Her quiet admission shook him but also made him stupidly happy. He wanted to be the only man to ever have seen her this way but knew that was silly, so her saying nobody had touched her in so long made him happy, which also made him a bit of a dick. “I get regular physicals, but yeah, it’s been a while.”

Her fingers traced his cheeks, forcing him to look her in the eye, the windows to all her thoughts. Instead of fear of the emotions he saw in them, he soaked it up, drowning in the look of devotion on her face.