He chuckled, low and dark.
“And I have to tell you,” she said, arching into his touch. “You’re not going to need any lube if you keep doing this.”
He pinched her nipples a bit harder, making them go dark pink and hard beneath the soap suds. “Is that right? You’re that wet for me already?”
“I’ve been wet for you since I left you last week, sir. And even before then.”
A low sound of approval passed his lips, and he traced one hand down her side, finding his way to the curve of her ass. He backed up a bit, sliding his hand between them and dragging the soap along her crack. “I don’t think it’s your place to tell me what I may or may not need to use on you, love.”
Hot goose bumps tightened her skin as his finger found her sensitive back entrance, teasing lightly. Her knees went liquid, and she couldn’t hold back the soft, achy gasp.
“See,” he said against her ear, “our training time together is going to be about exploring you, finding out what buttons get you to make that noise you just did, what I can tease and reward you with. Plus, I’ve been thinking about this ass way too long to not touch it now that I have you here.”
The tip of his finger, still slippery with soap, pushed gently inside, sending a wash of sensation across her nerve endings. Her clit pulsed in time with his ever so slight movements. Her hand went out in front her, bracing herself against the shower wall—both to keep herself steady and to stop her from relieving the pressure in her clit. She’d done anal play a time or two before, but the guys she’d been with had never had any finesse about it. And by some miracle, Davis hadn’t violated her there. But somehow Wyatt had instantly distilled her most forbidden and indulgent hot spot. He moved his other hand between her thighs, gliding over her mound and providing adept pressure. Then he plunged the fingertip in her backside a little deeper.
She moaned hard then, yearning. She’d gone a week with no orgasm, a week filled with dirty, delicious Wyatt fantasies. And she’d gone a year without the real thing. She was feeling every bit of that deprivation now. Her other hand landed on the wall, fully braced now. Water sluiced over her as she rocked into Wyatt’s dual touch. “Wyatt, please . . .”Author: Roni Loren
“Come for me, Kelsey,” he commanded, his voice harsh against her ear. “Show me how bad you fucking want it.”
The effect was instant and overwhelming. She let out a sharp cry that bounced off the shower tiles and rode his fingers without care or concern for how wanton she must look. The orgasm was almost painful in its intensity, all the built-up tension bursting in one explosive moment. Her fingers curled against the hard tile and she called his name in a long gasping pant, rocking into the sensations, until her head sagged between her shoulders.
When her cries quieted, he didn’t give her a second to even grab a lungful of oxygen. He shifted his hands and grasped her waist, turning her in the large shower until she faced the back wall, which was covered with jets he hadn’t turned on yet. “Lean forward. Hands back on the wall. Don’t move them unless I tell you.”
She followed his order, flattening her palms against the tile, her chest still rising and falling with her quick breaths. Her head buzzed with half-formed thoughts, but she vaguely registered the sound of the foil wrapper over the sound of the water. A few more dials were turned and the overhead shower went off, but the jets in front of her came to life. Wyatt adjusted the knobs, lining her up until two smaller jets hit directly against her nipples. She arched with the awareness.
“Let’s see how effective these really are, shall we?” he said, wickedness in his tone.
He adjusted one more lower knob and the spray of water landed right against her mound, a breath above her throbbing, sensitive clit. “Oh, Jesus.”
“You don’t get to come again until I do,” he said. “You understand?”
“Yes, sir.” But already she could feel the beginning of another orgasm building. The first a mere appetizer apparently.
His hands captured her hips, tilting her just so, and then he was spreading her, the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance. Her body attempted to resist—Wyatt was big and it’d been a long time for her. But when his stubble brushed over his shoulder and his lips tickled her ear with a whispered, “Open for me, love,” all tension seemed to drain from her. He pushed forward, and her body melted around him like butter over flame.
“Ah, that’s it, beautiful,” he said, his voice pure appreciation. “Christ, you feel good.”
She bit her lip, her eyes watering with the pleasure of it all and the feel of him inside her. The lights flickered above them, the storm still raging outside. But it was no match for the intensity of what was happening inside. Wyatt stayed still behind her, giving her time to adjust, but the lack of movement was ratcheting up her need to an almost unbearable level.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please what, Kelsey?” he challenged in that low, taunting tone. “Tell me.”
She wagged her head like a restless mare, his stillness pushing her to desperation. “More, sir, please.”
“So pretty begging,” he said, grazing her shoulder with his teeth and then sinking them into her neck. “You want to be fucked? Is that it?”
Wyatt thrust forward, burying himself deep and stretching her until his balls tapped her skin. A moan vibrated past her throat and her eyelids snapped shut. The sense of fullness was so fierce, so perfect, she almost came on the spot—the jets holding her on the brink already. But she clamped her teeth together and forced her eyes back open. Focus. She knew from being on the domme side that delayed gratification could be well worth it. The longer the tease, the bigger the payoff. But as he pumped forward again, she wondered if she had the strength to hold off.
She stared at the water sliding over the tiles, trying to cling to her last vestiges of self-control, but then the lights blinked and the room went black. She gasped in surprise, but Wyatt didn’t falter. “Ignore it, love. I don’t need light to make you feel good.”
The walls of the shower flickered with the white lightning flashing through the skylights, the strobe light effect matching the disorienting feeling of having the man she’d so long lusted after pumping inside her.
“You know how many times I’ve thought of this, Kelsey? How long I’ve wanted you? How many times I’ve imagined taking you in the back of your restaurant, lifting up that sweet little skirt and having you just like this, bent over and at my mercy?”
The words landed hot on her, making her sex clamp around him, aching, begging. The picture he painted was one that could get her off almost by thought alone. This is what he’d been imagining when she’d served him omelets? Had she known that, she would’ve never been able to get through a shift without ruining her panties. She loved how dirty and deliciously deviant this seemingly buttoned-up man could be. “I would’ve let you, sir.”
He gave a harsh grunt and gripped her waist hard, his fingers pressing into her skin with near bruising strength. Owning. Claiming. He thrust into her, rocking her into the shower jets. The bottom one was now hitting her clit with every forward thrust. Wham. Wham. Wham. Like some relentless hot tongue flicking at her in the dark. Pressure built low and fast, the stimulation making the ability to form thoughts go haywire.