I lick my lips at the sight of the way his pants hang low on his hips, and I take in the perfection of his chest, the muscles in his arms, the line of his collarbone up to his neck. The jaw I’m desperate to kiss, to taste. I can almost feel my hands sliding inside those jeans and I suck in a deep breath as I imagine the feel of his warm, thick cock—the one I just felt. My heart skips a beat at the thought and when I look at him to answer, I’m not smiling. I don’t want him to leave and I can do something about it. A low purr escapes my throat and his mouth quirks up at the corners in response.
I rip the T-shirt off that I just slipped on and sashay across the room. I feel like a lion after her prey. His eyes search mine, and the tone of that hissing noise he makes that just sounds like sex as he watches me makes my * clench. I approach him without an ounce of hesitation. “Stay. Take a shower with me. And I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” I feel a slow blush creep up my throat but ignore it and concentrate instead on tracing each letter of his tattoo. The one he had inked on his skin to keep me close to him. His body reacts to my tender touch and I grin. When I finish, I skim my fingers up his body and then bury my hands in his hair. His fingers grip my hips, but he stands still. I kiss his jaw, then his mouth. My tongue seeks what my body just had and we lose each other in our kiss.
Minutes later he cups my face and says, “Ivy, I have things to do before we leave. What are you doing?” He drops his head back as I do what I imagined doing just a few seconds ago. I push my hands into the front of his pants and feel the pulsing and throbbing of his already thick penis.
“I want you to fuck me again. I want to suck on your cock. Please.” My animalistic approach, the fierceness I felt before his body was touching mine, is ruined by the shakiness of my voice and my use of the word please. But he doesn’t seem to care.
“Fuck, Ivy,” he growls. Then he unzips his jeans and in one quick motion shoves them down, freeing his erection. Knowing he has just come inside me not more than fifteen minutes ago and he is already this turned on makes my clit throb. He shakes his head and just grins at me, then leads me to the bathroom. Without a word he turns the shower on and pulls me in.
The warm water hits us both and I push up against him, licking a few drops off his chest as they make their way down to the same place my hands are headed.
“You want me to wash you?” he asks, burying his face into my neck so I can feel his stubble.
I nod. He pours the body wash into his palm and I let my arms fall to my sides as his fingers work lather all over me. His hands move lower and I melt against the cold tile of the shower wall when his fingertips graze my clit. His hands circle and I push my hips forward, moaning in delight.
“You want my fingers in your *?” he asks, tracing his tongue around his lips, the lips I want on my body. He uses it to draw a line down my throat to my breasts, where he licks away the drops of water that fall on them.
I nod my head again and the water pelts down against my skin.
“Tell me, Ivy. Use words. I can’t see your response,” he says as his mouth sucks on my nipple.
I drop my head back and my hair, having grown longer, touches the space between my shoulder blades. “Yes. I always want your mouth on my *, your tongue over my clit,” I tell him and gasp when his lips descend farther down my body.
He stops and I peek down at him with a look of urgency. “What?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing.” I’m panting now.
He climbs up my body and his hard muscles touch my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
“What?” He says the word with such tenderness I feel silly mentioning it.
“Tell me,” he says more forcefully and pushes the wet hair from my face.
I close my eyes and just say it. “I want you in my mouth.”