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“Let me, please.” I find the Velcro on the side and gently peel it away. The stitches from surgery have already dissolved, so only a few small red spots mark the incisions.
Once the bandage is removed, I tuck my fingers into his waistband and carefully free his reawakening cock before dragging the boxers down his thighs. He steps out and kicks them aside. I’m at eye-level with his penis. If I lean forward, I can nuzzle it, or kiss it, or suck it. My thoughts must be written on my face, because he bends and slides his hands under my arms, lifting me to my feet. “I’ll keep that sweet mouth of yours busy later.”
He opens the shower door, and I put my hand under the spray, testing the water before I step in. Hollis follows me and closes the door. Steam billows around us as water cascades over his chest and down his abs. I run my hands over his shoulders and down his inked arm, and then we’re kissing, slick bodies pressed against each other. His erection swells against my stomach, and I roll my hips, wanting more, wanting his hands all over me, fingers inside me, tongue on my skin.
He pulls back, eyeing my face before he taps the jet on the wall. “I can see why you prefer my shower.”
“My showerhead does the job.”
“But it’s more work,” he notes. “So I should help.”
He squirts some of my body wash into his palm and rubs his hands together, creating suds. And then his hands are on the move, sliding down my arms and up my ribs, skimming the undersides of my breasts and smoothing down my back, squeezing my ass before he spins me around, my back to his chest. He turns the rain showerhead toward the back wall and slides the door open. The fan is on in the bathroom, so the mirror is mostly fog free.
I stare at our reflection across the room, and it’s like I’m seeing myself for the first time. Hollis is six-three and I’m nearly five-nine, so the top of my head reaches his chin. But he’s so broad and thick and so intensely gorgeous, he takes my breath away. His soapy hand eases up my stomach, the tattoos on his biceps rippling as he cups my breast. He kisses a path up my neck. “The number of times I fucked my hand to the image of you naked in my shower is obscene.”
“The number of times I fucked myself with my vibrator in your bed last week was equally obscene.”
“I know. I watched the videos before I deleted them.” He reaches for the detachable showerhead. “Now show me.”
His admissions give me courage, as does the hot, expectant look on his face. I spread my legs and lean against him, letting my head rest against his chest as I guide the showerhead between my thighs. It only takes a few seconds to find the spot that makes my eyes roll up and my knees wobbly.
“That’s it, Princess.” Hollis’s arm tightens around my waist, and his lips move along my neck, nipping, kissing. “I’ve got you.”
He toys with my nipple with the other hand, rolling the stiff peak, tugging, pinching. And all the while, I watch our reflections in the mirror while he watches me. My belly flutters, every muscle tightening as sensation builds, radiating through me. And Hollis murmurs hot words of encouragement, telling me I’m gorgeous, that he loves watching me come. When my body starts to shake and my coordination suffers, he takes over, keeping the pressure where I need it. As the orgasm rushes through me, he takes almost all my weight, his arm wrapped tightly around me, his lips on my neck. When the shaking subsides, he carefully sets the showerhead back in the holder and waits until my legs remember how to do their job before he turns me around and takes my mouth in another bone-melting kiss.
I can’t get close enough, can’t get enough of his hands on me, of mine on him. “Please, Hollis.”
He takes my face in his hands, molten gaze roving over me. “Please what?”
“Take me to bed.” My stomach is full of butterflies. I want all of him. Every part, even the one I won’t admit aloud. Especially that.
He turns off the shower and grabs a towel, drying me off, then himself. He’s hard again, thick and ready, and all I want is to know what it feels like to have him inside me. Grabbing his hand, I pull him into my bedroom. I can’t get there fast enough, half afraid he’ll change his mind about this. About us. About me.
I riffle through the condoms in my nightstand drawer. The one on top is glow in the dark—it must have been the Halloween theme or something. I pick a different one, and when I turn around, Hollis is standing behind me.
He takes the foil packet and kisses me softly. “It’s okay if you’re not ready for this.”
“I’m ready.” I want this with a ferocity that verges on desperation. If his guilt takes over and this is the only time I get him, I want to make the most of it.
“If that changes, you say the word, Princess,” he murmurs.
“It won’t.”
A faint smile appears, and then he kisses me breathless before he lifts me onto the bed. I slide back as he joins me.
“Lie down for me, Princess.”
“But shouldn’t I be on top?” I wish I wasn’t so nervous.
An amused grin curves his lips, and his eyes heat. “We’ll see.” His gaze shifts to the pillow, a silent command.
I love that he can say so much without uttering a word. I stretch out on the cool sheets, cheeks heating as he strokes himself lazily while he looks over my naked body. He stretches out beside me and drags a single finger along my jaw, down my cheek, over my chest, circling a nipple before continuing his descent. “So many things I want to do to you.” His tongue sweeps across his bottom lip. “For you.”
And then his mouth is on mine, lips soft and sure as his fingers drift lower. I part my legs automatically and he strokes me, circling my clit once before he slides a finger inside. He pulls back, eyes hooded with lust. I whimper as he withdraws his finger, then moan when he slips it between his lips and makes a guttural sound. “Will you let me taste you?”
I nod and manage to whisper, “Yes, please.”
He edges his good knee between my legs and props himself up on his forearm, looming over me. His lips brush mine, and then he starts the descent, kissing his way down my neck, pausing at the sensitive spot along my collarbone before he nibbles his way over the swell of my breast. He sucks one nipple, then the other, teasing me with his tongue and making me gasp when he uses teeth. He gives attention to every sensitive spot on his way down. “So fucking beautiful.” He settles between my thighs. “Every part of you.” He kisses the inside of my thigh and then his tongue sweeps up the juncture—close, but not to where I want his mouth.
