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With her arms curled around her middle, she ducked past the rainfall head and tucked herself into the spot he’d indicated. It was a measure of progress that she complied, finally believing he would not beat or rape her. But he was too annoyed to be grateful.

Her eyes never left him as he followed her in and stood under the overhead spray, letting the warm water sluice down his body. He braced his hands against the dark tile wall and closed his eyes as the heat rolled down his back. He tried like hell to let go of his tension, of his need for her. All the while, he felt Laila’s stare, both chastened and curious.

Fuck. That wasn’t helping. He wasn’t coming down from the erotic endorphin high of having her underneath him, her pussy around him, squeezing tight, as she begged him for more.

Might as well get this shit over with.

With a sigh, he reached for his shower gel and dumped a glop into his palm. “Did you really want to have sex?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

A long moment passed before she answered. “Because it feels different with you.”

He didn’t love being compared to her rapists, but she had no other comparison. He got that. “It’s different with you, too. I wanted you, more than I should probably admit. More than I can remember wanting anyone.”

Her shoulders slumped, and she looked away. “I am sorry.”

“Honey, I understand you have trust issues. I know exactly why. I’m a patient man. I’ll listen. I’ll talk to you. I’ll do my best to help you bury your fears. But I fucking won’t let you misuse your safe word again. It’s like crying wolf.”

“I will not. I promise. If you will come back to bed, I will be available to you in any way you want.”

He shook his head. “That ship sailed. I needed you to be honest and you weren’t. Now neither of is getting what we want tonight. That orgasm you asked me for? Denied. You just get to watch. Don’t look away.”

He didn’t explain more, simply lathered up the soap in his hands, faced her, braced his hand on the wall beside her head, and started stroking his cock with rough, unfinessed pulls.

Laila gasped, her eyes glued to his motions. “Y-You are…self-pleasuring.”

It wasn’t even a pleasure now, just a point he was making. “Yep. I don’t masturbate much because I’d rather have a willing partner, but since you want to play games…”

“Trees—”

“The time for talking about it is over. Just watch me.”

She did, her eyes never wavering as he tugged his way up his cock and jerked back down. He was making a point, punishing her by withholding his touch and her pleasure. He felt almost nothing but anger and regret…until he realized her rapt eyes were on him. Her mouth gaped. Her heart raced. He’d bet she had a wet pussy, too. One he couldn’t have tonight, damn it.

Still, what began simply as discipline had turned into an unexpected thrill.

He continued stroking himself. His shoulder burned. His biceps protested. And Laila just watched, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes unwavering, her cheeks flushing.

He needed more. He needed to be closer to her, to connect more with her.

Trees closed his eyes and tried to imagine that Laila hadn’t safe worded out, that he was still inside her, still feeling her all around him, still one with her. It wasn’t enough when he knew she was right in front of him.

“Look at me,” he barked.

She dragged her gaze up to him. Their eyes met.

Zing.

His veins—and everything else—flooded with pleasure.

Her eyes darkened. Her nipples hardened. Their breaths mingled and merged. Neither blinked as they fell into the moment together.

Suddenly, he didn’t care about anything except their now. He ramped up his strokes, losing himself in her eyes, groaning as the end edged closer.

In the silence broken only by their panting, she reached for him, touching his hip. Encouragement.

Her thumb slid across his skin, leaving a burning arc in its path. That nudged him even closer to orgasm. He could feel it brewing, hot and deep—a churning urge only she could fulfill.

“Laila…”

“Trees,” she whispered back.

Then she cupped his balls and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, his neck, his jawline. “I cannot stop looking at you. You are so strong and so male. So beautiful.”

Then she laid her cheek against his, and he could hear her aroused, uneven breaths in his ear. He jolted again, his desire ratcheting up.

Fuck it. If he was going to have to settle for coming by his own hand tonight, he was going to be as close to her as possible.

He yanked his bracing palm off the wall and gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his stare. They were mere inches apart, almost nose to nose. He buried the head of his cock against her stomach and rolled against her, his thumb working the rim of his sensitive crest over and over.


Tags: Shayla Black Wicked & Devoted Erotic