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“No shame.” He sighs as if annoyed and steps into the small shower, which is most definitely not built for two people. When he pulls the door shut behind him and turns back to tower over me, his semi-hard dick brushes against my leg.
“This isn’t about shame,” I exclaim breathlessly as I look up at him, my mouth opening and closing as I struggle to think straight in his presence. “This is about privacy. You can’t just let yourself into my apartment whenever you want just because we had sex once.”
His brows knit together as he tilts his head and stares at me like I’m making no sense. “We discussed this already.”
“What did we discuss?” I ask, my mind replaying the moments after he came inside me last night.
My damn hormones are only interested in replaying the dirty stuff. I focus past the orgasms for a moment, but I’m pretty sure we ended things with him lowering my dress, patting me on the butt, and saying, “Sleep well, Lucky.”
Wyatt presses into me, forcing my back onto the cool fiberglass as our fronts connect in all sorts of indecent spaces. My nipples pebble against his ribs as his hands drift down my sides, resting squarely on my hips like we’ve showered together a million times already.
Water cascades over his large shoulders as he replies, “As much as we want…whenever we want.”
He dips his head like he’s going to kiss me, and I press my hand to his mouth. “Okay, but two people have to want it!”
He frowns against my palm and murmurs, “You don’t want it?” He gently thrusts his dick, which is now fully erect, into my belly. Either this man is into dubious consent, or he’s just horny all the time.
I struggle with how to answer this question when literally every part of my body wants it. I want him in my mouth, between my legs, and in my ass. Honestly, I would take him in my ears if it was a thing.
It’s not a thing…I’ve checked. I should probably speak with a therapist about those intrusive thoughts, too, because they are ten shades of fucked up.
The “wanting” is not the issue here. It’s the lack-of-boundaries thing that he still seems to be unable to comprehend.
I swallow my arousal down to the depths of my belly and push my hands onto his chest to get a little space. He steps back, his hard cock bobbing between us like a lifeline pulling me in. “I want it, but remember that smothering thing I said you were doing before?”
“I thought you liked that part.” His lips thin speculatively. “If you just let go of control a little bit, you might actually discover you’re enjoying yourself.”
My jaw drops. “You thinkI’mcontrolling?”
“Yes.”
“You’re the one who took my keys last night!”
“You’re the one who let me.” He tilts his head to the side and eyes me firmly. “I told you if I fucked you, every part of you would belong to me. Did you think I was joking?”
“Do you realize how crazy that sounds?”
“Didn’t seem like you minded last night.”
I scoff and shake my head. “My God, you are like a long-lost caveman who’s never operated in normal society.”
“I just don’t live with fucking shame,” Wyatt growls back at me, his face deathly serious. He leans forward and splays his hand on the shower wall by my face as he adds, “If there’s something I want, I’m not going to pussyfoot around and act like I don’t want it just to be cool or play games. I want you. I’ve been thinking about you since the moment I woke up. I want to be inside you again so I can see your face when you come this time. I lay awake half the night, regretting the fact that I didn’t get to see your fuckable lips part when you came on my cock.”
His eyes drift angrily down to my lips as my entire body begins to quake with anxiety. Or is that desire? Probably a bit of both.
“Would you like to come for me again, Lucky?” His voice is low and almost threatening. I like it way too much.
“Yes,” I whimper, my head dropping back onto the shower wall as my hormones take over once again.
“Good,” Wyatt replies and steps away from me to reach for my shampoo bottle. He squirts some into his palm and hits me with his stunning blue eyes. “Then let me get you clean before I take you to bed and make you dirty with my cum.”
And that’s when the mountain man begins to wash me.
Yes…wash me.
He starts with my hair, using his nails on my scalp in a way that makes my knees wobble. When he massages conditioner into my head, I wonder if I could orgasm from scalp stimulation. When the loofah comes into the mix, then I know what he’s after. He grinds the textured sponge over my clit repeatedly while his other free hand moves the bubbles around my breasts.
“Ow,” I croak when he pinches lightly on my nipples.
