I whimper, resisting the urge to drop to my knees and just start tonguing his perfect, pretty cock. It curves up at the end, like it's asking to be petted, and I can't stand it. I touch a finger along the head, circling it, and fresh pre-cum beads there.
Kassam gives a ragged groan. "Wash me quick, little light. It has been a long time and my hunger is fierce."
Such a strange way of talking. A strange accent, too. If I was looking at things closely, I'd be full of questions, but right now, all I want to be full of is his dick. "Turn around," I tell him, breathless. I re-soap the pouf and in the next two minutes, I scrub his lower half as quickly as possible, because my hunger is fierce, too. I try not to spend an overly long amount of time on his rock-hard thighs or his massive shaft and balls, or his perfect bubble of a butt. Nope. There'll be time for that later, I tell myself. Right now, I'm all about cleaning this strange grime until his skin gleams with just how clean he is.
Then I shampoo his tangled hair and add some conditioner while he runs his hands all over my body.
"Almost done," I promise him as he tugs at the waist of my jeans. It's like he can't figure them out, but maybe it's the wet fabric that's making him unable to undo them. When he makes an impatient noise, liquid heat flares through me. "You know what? I think we're good. Get under the spray. Hurry."
In what might be the quickest rinse-off ever, Kassam does as I command, and then grabs me by the hips and hauls me out of the tub with him. A stream of water drips on my floors from our soaked bodies, but I find I don't care. I'm panting with need.
"Where?" he asks, burying his face against my wet breasts. "Tell me where or I will fuck you right here."
"Bed," I manage, though I do like the idea of dropping to the floor like animals and just going to town. I point down the hall, at the other door, and he immediately slams into it. I yelp as we crash into the wood, and then he steps back, hoists me over his shoulder higher, and lifts a leg. He kicks down my bedroom door, knocking it off the hinges, and making a godawful racket. I cringe, thinking of the neighbors downstairs. "Um, next time just use the doorknob—"
"Next time," he echoes, but I don't think he's listening. He heads to my bed and dumps me onto my back, his dripping, golden body looming over mine.
Just like that, my mouth goes dry and I forget all about doors. He yanks on my sodden sneakers, pulling them off my feet while I undo my jeans and shimmy the wet material down my legs.
He grabs my jeans and flings them down to the floor, then laughs at the sight of my pink bikini panties. "How many layers are you wearing, woman?"
"The normal amount?"
Kassam laughs as if I'm being funny, then peels my panties off. I sit up to take off my T-shirt and bra, but he pushes me back down on the bed with a gentle nudge, moving over me. His mouth claims mine again, even as he fits his hips between my spread thighs.
"Oh, are we not doing foreplay?" I whisper, frowning. "Because I need foreplay if I'm going to come—"
He bites down gently on my lip, tugging on it, even as he pushes into my body.
And…oh fuck. I whimper with sheer bliss as he fills me. Nothing has ever felt so damn good. His cock feels as if it's the perfect size, just big enough to stretch me in all the right places, but not so big that it's painful. I lift my legs, locking them around his hips as he thrusts into me, starting a fierce, frantic rhythm. Did I say I needed foreplay? Maybe I need it with other men, but with Kassam, I feel like I'm going to shatter into a million pieces just from this. I make a pathetic little whine when his next thrust rubs against my G-spot, my nails digging into his back.
"I will make it good for you, little light," he breathes into my ear. He gives me another hard, filthy thrust, our wet bodies sliding across the bed. "Always good for you."
"Kassam," I pant as a deep, curling orgasm begins to build in my belly from his thrusts alone. It feels different than a regular orgasm, darker and far more elusive, but I want to feel what happens if it surfaces.
He grabs my hips without a word and moves up, just a little, until his weight is pushing my thighs to my chest and he's fucking me even deeper. That does the trick, and that spiral of pleasure keeps growing until it's racing all through me, consuming my thoughts until I feel as if I'm going to die if I don't come. I choke out his name, over and over again, as he plows into me, until the bed creaks and groans under us and we're in danger of falling off the side.