“How do you like this beer?” I asked softly, leaning my head back against his chest.
Lightening flashed, followed only milliseconds later by another loud boom of thunder.
“It’s not bad. I’m more of a dark ale man myself,” he murmured, while placing his bottle on the ledge.
I bit my lip when his hand left my breast and started to trail down the flat plane of my belly.
“I love this one,” my breath hitched.
His hand finally found the curls between my legs, fingers sifting through the coarse hair.
“I like this,” he said, giving my curls a gentle tug.
I moaned involuntarily.
That little bite of pain made my heart stutter in my chest and start to beat harder, my breathing becoming faster.
His erect cock was bobbing on the inside of my thigh, bouncing up and down slightly in time with his movements, tapping gently against the lips of my sex with shift of his hips.
With the lights out, every one of my senses were heightened.
Every single touch and breath felt monumental.
I was so wet that if he’d tried to enter me right then with his massive cock, I would’ve accepted him with ease.
But that wasn’t what he was doing right then.
No. He was teasing me.
Petting me.
Letting his callused hands run all over my body, back and front. Caressing my breasts, my face. Gliding them up my arms, over my neck.
“Get the soap,” he ordered roughly.
His gravelly voice had gotten even rougher as his arousal started to take over, and I found that I quite liked that…what I did to him.
I placed my beer on the side of the shower when I bent over and felt around on the floor for the soap, bracing my hand against the wall in front of me to hold myself steady as I searched.
Which was a good thing when his long, thick finger shoved straight into my * with no warning.
I gasped, closing my eyes, as I pressed my ass back against him, completely forgetting that I was supposed to be finding the soap.
“Soap,” he ordered again, smacking my ass for emphasis.
I gasped again and restarted my search for the soap, pausing when he worked not two, but three fingers into me.
“Soap,” he continued, sounding barely fazed by what was happening to me.
My orgasm was just suddenly there.
One second I was thinking he needed shut up about the soap, and the next my orgasm was slamming into me with the force of a freight train.
I would’ve fallen forward, too, had Silas not stopped pleasuring me and gripped me by the hair and hip, hauling me back into him.
His hand slid around my hip, cupping my sex and filling me with two fingers as he said, “You didn’t get the soap.”
“Fuck the damn soap,” I said, lifting my arm to loop around his neck.
“Tsk, tsk,” he said, stopping the slow back and forth movement of his fingers. “There’s something you should know about me, darlin.’”
I closed my eyes and swallowed. “W-what?”
Suddenly, I found myself whirled around, my back pressed up against the cool tile of the shower, Silas’ body pressed firmly against mine, holding me in place with just the strength of his legs.
His hands were tickling up and down my sides lightly, his cock standing like a steel bar between us, so hard that it had to hurt.
“When I tell you to do something…I expect you to do it. I’m not a man like any of the others you may have known. I’m older and set in my ways, I expect things to be done the way I want them done, and all that means you need to follow my directions. Everything I do and say has a purpose, and that purpose is what’s in your best interest. So from now on, in all ways, you obey me,” he ordered, his mouth only inches away from mine.
I should be offended, right?
Except I wasn’t. Not at all.
I was turned way the hell on.
Once again, my troubles were all but forgotten as I handed myself over to Silas on a silver fucking platter.
“Okay,” I panted out breathily.
His lips pressed to mine as he mumbled against them, “Now, get the fucking soap.”
Needless to say, I dropped to my knees and got the fucking soap.
When I stood once again, soap in hand, he guided my hand holding the bar of soap in it and pressed it against his chest.
“Wash me,” he ordered.
I licked my lips and searched in the darkness for his face.
It was no use.
I could just barely make out his form, and I couldn’t see his expression at all.
There was no light whatsoever in the shower, and coupled with the storm’s darkness outside, it was useless to try, but I still strained to see his face.
Using both hands to work the soap into a foamy lather, I started at his shoulders, running my hands over the very tops of his very broad shoulders, down his muscular arms to his hands, working the lather over every inch of his skin along the way.
I circled each finger with my fist, working them like I would his cock.
Once I was done with his left hand, I switched the soap to my left and went to work on his right hand.