I gasped. “What?” And then I shook my head because I didn’t want him to think I was trying to be punished.
“You heard me.” He walked around so that we were facing each other, locking his eyes on mine. “I’m going to be your first, and I’m going to make you cum over and over and over again.” He lowered his head and kissed my lips. “It’s going to be so f**king good that you’re going to want me to be your last.”
My heart stopped—literally stopped, because my knees went weak and I leaned against the wall, sliding down onto the shower bench.
Letting out a low laugh, he leaned down and kissed me one more time. He walked over to the hanging shelf and grabbed a blue loofah, using it to spread a clear gel over his skin.
He turned around and looked into my eyes, running the soapy loofah across his perfectly carved chest, across his muscled abs. He let the suds sit on his body for a few seconds, and then he let the water trickle down his body and clear them away.
“Can’t stand up?” He raised his eyebrow and I bit my lip as he ran the loofah against his rock hard dick, as he used his hands to teasingly rub it up and down.
I tried to get up, but my legs were still numb. The strong pressure of the water jets against my body weren’t much help either.
All I could do was sit and watch as Jonathan teased me with that damn loofah, letting it caress all the places I wanted to touch.
After many more minutes of playful torture, he tossed it onto the floor and winked. “Still can’t stand up?”
I blushed and he walked over to me, pulling me up by my hands.
As soon as we stepped out of the shower, the water jets stopped and the lights turned white again.
He pulled me over to a bench that sat in front of the sauna and smiled. He slipped into a black robe and grabbed a small towel from a drawer, wrapping it around my hair. He took another towel—a larger one, and began pressing it against my skin, slowly rubbing it all over my body.
“You are so beautiful, Claire...” He brushed the towel between my thighs, making my body tense. “Especially when you look at me like that...” He placed a kiss against my thigh.
It took him a while to dry me, and I thought he would ask me to return the favor, but he didn’t. Instead, he unwrapped a brand new blow dryer and took his time drying every strand of my hair, massaging my scalp as tenderly as he’d done in the shower.
When he was finished, he stared at my naked body for several minutes, smiling as his eyes wandered up and down.
“Hold your arms up.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a black slip.
As I held my arms high, he slid the soft fabric over my head and tugged it down, smoothing it out in certain places.
I started to wonder if he bought the same standard slip for all of the other “serious” women he’d been with. But, as I looked at my reflection, I noticed that there was white cursive threading sewn onto the lace that covered my left breast. It read, “For Claire.”
“I’ve never bought lingerie for anyone else,” he whispered. “Only you.” He clasped my hand and led me out of the bathroom and down the hall.
We walked past four doors and a small staircase before stopping in front of a set of white French doors. He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked one of the doors, pushing me inside.
My eyes widened as I took in the room: The silky taupe drapes that fell down to floor, the perfectly polished wood floors, the large mahogany poster bed that stood on the far side of the room, and the large scale paintings that featured the greatest American authors.
I walked over the bookshelf that covered the entire back wall, pulling out the only book that wasn’t perfectly aligned with the others.
“I’m only thirty pages in.” Jonathan stepped in front of me. “It’s actually not that bad. Don’t follow her lead and get any ideas about leaving me though.” He smiled as he took Eat, Pray, Love from my hands, placing it back on the shelf.
“Come here.” He took my hand in his and led me over to the bed. “Wine?”
I nodded and he laughed.
“You can answer questions, Claire.” He uncorked a bottle and poured two glasses. “You just can’t initiate anything.” He handed me my drink.
I took several slow sips and smiled. It was the same wine I’d ordered on our first date—my favorite wine; he’d remembered.
Why is he so perfect?
“Did you have a good day at work today?” He eyed me as he set his glass down.
“Yes...”
“Anything interesting happen?”
My body was trembling uncontrollably again. No matter how hard I tried to control it, it wouldn’t stop.
“Claire?” He took my glass away and cupped my face in his hands. “Are you there?”