Page 24 of Certified to Handle You 3

He let me undress him piece by piece. I slid his shirt from his shoulders, set his watch on the dresser, then unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down once he stepped out of his shoes.

Pressure watched me the whole time, his eyes dark and warm at once, and when he was standing in front of me in nothing but his briefs, I stepped closer and kissed the middle of his chest. My hand moved down his abs, slow enough to feel the way his muscles tightened under my palm, then I slipped my fingers under the band of his briefs and wrapped my hand around his dick. He was already hard for me, and the feel of him made my body soften against his.

Pressure let out a low sound when I gripped his dick a little tighter and tugged him closer. He came into me without fighting it, his hands sliding over my back and down to my hips while I kissed him. I didn’t stroke him fast or try to rush the moment. I just held his dick in my hand because it was mine to touch, mine to calm and mine to love on.

Pressure kissed me deeper, his fingers pressing into my skin while his dick stayed hard in my grip. I rubbed my thumb over the tip, then pulled back enough to look up at him. His face was relaxed, but his eyes had that look in them that always made me feel like I was standing too close to something that could swallow me whole. I kissed him again, and kept my hand around his dick until he was breathing harder against my mouth.

When I finally let him go, I pushed his briefs down and helped him step out of them. Then I kissed his chest again, took his hand and led him toward the bathroom.

I started the shower and let the water warm while I undressed too. Pressure stood behind me, close enough for me to feel him before he touched me and I could feel his eyes on my ass as I stepped out of my clothes.

I reached to move my hair out the way, but his hands got there first. He gathered all of it, slid it over one shoulder, then stepped in closer until his chest pressed against my back. His dick was still hard, resting heavy against me and when it brushed along my ass, my body leaned back into him before I could even think about acting like I didn’t feel it.

Pressure’s hands moved to my hips slow, rubbing over my skin like he was reminding himself that he could touch me this way again. I let the back of my head rest against his chest while the shower ran in front of us. His fingers moved from my hips to my stomach, then back down again and every touch felt like he was taking his time with something he missed.

I closed my eyes when his mouth found the side of my neck, and his dick pressed against me a little harder when I shifted my hips back. Neither one of us said anything for a moment.

Pressure kept one hand on my waist while the other slid into my hair, his fingers moving through it slow as he kissed all over my shoulder. I could feel how much he wanted me, but he wasn’t rushing if I wasn’t and that made the moment feel even better. It was soft, but it still had heat in it. It was the kind of touching that would stay on my mind even when he wasn’t around.

I reached back and touched his thigh, letting my fingers drag over his skin while he held me against him. His breathing changed against my ear, and I smiled a little because I knew he was trying to behave. Pressure was letting me lead tonight, but that didn’t mean the man in him had gone anywhere. It was still right here behind me, hard against my ass.

We got in the shower together, and the hot water ran over both of us. I reached for his shampoo first. He sat on the shower bench while I stood between his legs and worked the shampoo gently over his hair and beard. My fingers moved slow across his scalp, rubbing and washing while his hands slid around my waist.

Pressure leaned forward and kissed my stomach. Then he kissed the side of my waist, my hip and right above my thigh while I washed his hair. His hands moved over me with no rush, touching my hips and rubbing over my ass like he was trying to stay quiet and enjoy what I was doing at the same time.

“You feel good?” I asked.

He looked up at me with water running down his face and into his beard. “Yeah, baby. Keep doin’ that.”

I smiled and kept going. I rinsed the shampoo out carefully, running my hands over his waves then his beard until the water was clear. Then I used the conditioner and rubbed it in with the same slow care.

Pressure closed his eyes for a little while, and that did more to me than anything he could have said. My husband, who was always watching everything and listening for every sound in the house, was sitting here with his eyes closed and letting me take care of him.

He looked up at me while I washed him, and his hands rested heavy on my hips. “You babying me tonight,” he said.

“I want to,” I replied.

He pulled me a little closer and kissed between my titties. “I ain’t complaining.”

I reached for the washcloth and washed his neck, shoulders, chest, arms and hands. I took my time with his palms and fingers because those hands had held me through some of the hardest days of my life. I washed them like they mattered, then pressed a kiss to his knuckles before moving down the rest of his body.

Pressure watched me with a quiet look on his face, and that look followed me while I washed him real good. When I stood again, he pulled me closer and kissed me with water running between us.

After I finished with him, I washed myself while he stayed on the bench and touched me whenever I came close enough. He rubbed my thighs, kissed my waist and pulled me back to him twice. I let him have those moments because the whole night was for him, and if touching me made him feel loved too, I wasn’t moving away from it.

When we were done, I cut the shower off and reached for the towels. I dried him first, wiping water from his face, his beard, his chest, and his arms. Then I wrapped my towel around myself and walked him into the bedroom.

He sat on the bed while I grabbed the oil, brush and lotion. I stood between his legs and rubbed a little oil into my palms before smoothing it over his waves.

Pressure’s hands rested on the back of my thighs, but his eyes stayed closed while my fingers moved over his scalp. He didn’t say anything. He just sat here and let me take my time with him.

I brushed his waves down slow, following the pattern careful until they laid the way they were supposed to. Then I put a little lotion between my fingers and rubbed it over his face, smoothing it across his forehead, down his cheeks and around his beard before taking my thumbs under his eyes. He leaned into that part a little, and I stayed there a few seconds longer because I liked feeling him relax under my hands.

When I finished, I grabbed his durag and placed it over his head. I tied it neat, making sure it sat smooth around his hairline, then leaned down and kissed his forehead before moving on to the rest of him. I sat at the foot of the bed and pulled his legs across my lap.

Pressure looked down at me. “Baby, you don’t have to do all that.”

“I know, baby,” I replied. “I want to.”