Lips against her neck, he moaned. While he continued to tease her nipples with one hand, he reached for the soap with the other. Then his slippery palms glided from one breast to the other. Now she moaned, falling against him. Surrendering.
One of his hands slipped beneath the water to her hip. The touch moved up and down the outer side of her leg. She let her thighs drift apart and waited to feel his hand move over. Instead, he fed her strawberries, made her feed him one, and they sipped champagne, while the warm water bubbled around them, and he seduced her with his slow touches.
At a snail’s pace his fingers inched between her legs, gliding over her yet still teasing by not moving to the center. His moist kisses against the back of her neck sent delicious messages down her spine, while his fingers, oh so close, sent even more.
Impatient, she twisted, rose and sat sideways on his lap. The bubbling water waved around them. His hard shaft found its place between her legs, not inside, but when the ridge around his sex pressed against the spot his finger had yet to touch, she dropped the glass. The flute bobbed atop the stirring water, spilling the last sip of bubbly.
Brit caught the glass, set it on the floor then pulled her into his kiss. His mouth covered hers, and they shared air. Their tongues danced and mated and his hips rose and lowered. His sex, cradled between her thighs, moved between her legs, creating a hot desire for more.
Reaching down, she wrapped her hand around him and felt him throb beneath her palm. She shifted, wanting that hardness inside her. Water sloshed around them and his erection found its way to her opening again. Her body cried out to be one, and she started to slide down, to take him inside.
“Bed.” His voice sounded deep. The next thing she knew, he had her wrapped in a towel, carrying her out of the steamy room. The chill of bedroom air sent goose bumps over her wet body. He pulled her against his chest—against a wall of male warmth.
Gently, he lay her down on the bed. He took his time, letting his gaze stroke her body. Finally, he lay down beside her, pulling a sheet from the bottom of the bed to cover them. “Cold?”
“A little.” She ran her palm over his chest.
Drawing her closer, he dipped down and his mouth took hers. His hands explored, caressed and tempted. And she did her own exploring, sweeping her palm over his chest, and then lower to hold him in her palm again. Moaning, he flipped her over on her back and caught both her hands in his one and held it over her head.
The chill in the air was forgotten as the heat built inside her. He kissed her breasts until she arched her back off the mattress, every nerve in her body begged for release. His free hand moved between her legs again, and she felt his fingers slide into the waiting wetness he’d created.
“Please.” She shifted her hips upward.
He inhaled sharply. “Not yet,” he whispered, pulling his hand away from the moisture between her legs, as if he understood exactly what she wanted.
“You’ve got to come first.” He slid his fingers down again and took his touch deeper between her legs—dipping in and out.
“Now,” she mumbled, and tried to free her hands, but his kiss swallowed her protest and his grip on her wrists tightened ever so lightly.
When his lips pulled back, he released her hands and then ducked under the sheets, and breathed kisses down her breasts, her stomach. Lower. His intentions became clear. Awkwardness shot through her. Oral sex never really worked for her.
She just wasn’t good at this. She stared at his sheet-covered body between her legs. “You don’t have to.” Then his tongue moved against her.
“Relax,” he whispered against her thigh.
She reached down and pulled him up by the shoulders. “Seriously, you don’t have to.”
His head popped out. With the sheet still half draped over his head, he arched a puzzled brow. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s not…” She took a deep breath. “I mean, I’ve never…”
“Never?” He grinned, his eyes sparkled with humor.
She felt her face heat up. “I’m not as experienced as you are. And it’s always seemed too…”
“Too what?” He was still grinning.
“Just too.” She swallowed her embarrassment.
“Give me three minutes. If you don’t like it, I’ll try something else.”
“But…”
“No buts. Just try it.” He grinned. “I’m good at it.” He brought his tongue out and swiped it across his bottom lip.
He slipped his hand down beneath the sheet and his fingers moved over the outside of her lips ever so softly. “I’m really, really good at it.”
The swirl of pleasure had her withering. He studied as if waiting for her answer, but again, before she responded, he dipped back down under the covers.
Soft flutter-like kisses moved along the inside of her thigh. She held her breath, waiting for the feel of his tongue, and then he was there.