Michael gasped as Sophie’s hand finally slipped down between his thighs and wrapped around his aching cock. A distant voice berated him for pushing himself on her before she’d fully recovered. But he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Part of it was physical need, but it had been the driving desire to connect with her intimately on every level that he had finally given into. Of course, now that he was here, naked with her, physical need was asserting itself very strongly indeed.
She explored him slowly at first, touching and stroking every inch. Michael desperately wanted to reciprocate, but he knew she wasn’t ready. He settled for feasting his eyes on her naked body for the first time.
Her skin was flushed pink from the heat of the shower, her rosy nipples tight and hard. His palms itched to cup her rounded breasts; he’d fantasized for years about what they’d look like, and they didn’t disappoint. His eyes wandered lower, taking in the wet triangle of bright red curls at the juncture of her thighs. Michael wished he could bury his face in there for at least a week.
He glanced up at her face. She was completely focused on his cock in her hand. The sight of her rubbing him up and down with such intensity nearly sent him over the edge. Sophie chose that moment to shift her grip on his erection, lavishing attention on the sensitive head of his penis. Swamped with sensation, Michael screwed his eyes shut and pushed himself greedily into her hand.
“So good, mana mila,” he moaned. “A little faster?” She obliged him, picking up the pace.
“Good?” He nodded, panting, feeling the tension building. It had been too long since he’d had any kind of release, and the feel of her stroking his overexcited cock was too much. His balls tightened. Unable to hold back any longer, he braced himself against the shower wall, then climaxed between their bodies with a helpless cry of pleasure.
“Oh God, Sophie.” He nuzzled into the crook of her shoulder, letting the hot water wash away the mess on both of them. “So good.”
She smiled, pleased and tired. Loving Michael had always been part of her fabric of being. Loving him physically felt extraordinary. However, she also felt like she might fall down soon if she didn’t get back to bed. She reached for the shampoo, which Michael plucked out of her trembling hands with a smile.
He poured some shampoo into his palm and turned her around, his strong hands working through her hair to lather it up. She sighed with delight as his fingers rubbed against her scalp for several minutes. Then he turned her and tipped her head back to rinse.
“That was nice,” she sighed. “Thank you.” He smiled and picked up a bar of soap.
“My pleasure.” He worked up a good lather between his hands and ran them over her shoulders, rubbing and massaging the skin. After two days of hell, Sophie felt like she’d landed in heaven. He cleaned every inch of her, front and back, ending up on his knees in front of her to wash all the way down to her toes and back up again.
She could have stood there forever, enjoying his attention. Unfortunately, the water started going cold. She squealed, turning the shower off. He dried her with a threadbare towel.
“That felt good.” She wrapped her arms around him, grateful for the support. “Thank you.”
“Next time, you will be well again, and I will do much more than wash you.”
His voice was heavy with promise, and she felt her nipples harden against his chest as a rush of desire flooded through her. She flushed, turning her head away from him to face the mirror. She looked at herself for the first time since she’d woken up.
“Oh.” She ducked out of his arms and peered into the mirror. “You took the stitches out of my forehead.”
“Yes, while you slept.” He seemed even less inclined to discuss it than she did, for which she was thankful. The moment passed, and he turned back to her with his sweetest smile, which made her knees even wobblier than they already were. As did the long kiss he planted on her mouth immediately after.
-