“Myles.”
I hum into my next lick. Incapable of answering when she tastes this sweet.
“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile, just because of what happened t-today. Okay?” She struggles to breathe in between every few words. “Not you. Please. I especially need to feel…feel strong now.”
Give her what she wants. Give her what she’s asking for.
What she’s been asking for since the beginning.
It’s not just her plea, it’s my Taylor-sense encouraging me to be rough, to fulfill that craving she confided in me—and God knows I’m not a gentle giant. Definitely not right now, when I want her so bad, I can barely see straight or think clearly. Mine.
Test the waters. See where her bar has been set.
“That’s a pretty little cunt, isn’t it?” I say in between drags of my tongue, watching her face. Reading her. Gauging her mood. Finding out where she’s at. And when she rolls her hips sharply into my next lave of her clit, her fingers tangling in my hair, I know. I know how Taylor wants to be fucked. Fast and nasty and hard. That’s what we’ve been dancing around for days. And it’s good for me, it’s good, because I don’t have a goddamn clue how to make love.
This is as close as I’m ever going to get.
I lean sideways a little and slap the wet flesh between her thighs. Not hard. Just enough to get her attention and roll those beautiful eyes back in her head. “Myles.”
“What?” I smack it again, noticing she’s wetter this time. Damn. Perfect, perfect woman. “You like when I spank you in front?”
“Yes,” she whines through her teeth.
I can tell if she’s sweating or just covered in dew from the shower steam, but every inch of her is glistening, including her sex, and it’s the hottest shit I’ve seen in my thirty-four years. This girl-next-door schoolteacher glowing with moisture, her legs spread for my mouth. The smack of my hand. I’m not even inside her yet and I’ll never recover. Never.
My hands travel up her thighs, through the slickness on her heaving ribcage and close around her breasts, squeezing, before I go to work on her nipples. They’ve gotten hard every time we’ve been on the verge of fucking—hell, they pucker up even when we’re eye fucking. Extra sensitive. As soon as I brush my thumbs over those peaks, her trembles get more intense and I go faster with my tongue. Faster and faster, up and down on her clit until she’s got one hand yanking at my hair, the other clutching the edge of the vanity. She screams behind clenched teeth and quakes through her first orgasm, and God help me, I lick it up. I bask in that sweetness and let her see I’m eager for it, proud of it, and she shakes all the harder for my animal grunts and lapping tongue.
But there’s a frantic pulse inside of me, urging me to my feet. Crowding into the V of her thighs with cock in hand. My jeans are around my ankles and I’m a mess. A moaning, dripping mess and there’s nothing in the world that can save me but her. Looking into her dazed eyes, I see nothing but encouragement. I want to be sure, though. “You need to stop, sweetheart, we’ll stop. You hear me? On a fucking dime. Whether it kills me or not.”
“I don’t want to stop.” She scoots another inch toward the edge of the sink and tugs on my hips, digs her nails into them. “I don’t want you to hold back, either.”
My sides start to heave, harsh breaths from my nose causing the steam to swirl in between us. Fingers fumbling for the condom in my pocket. Rip. Roll.
Jesus, I’m a bull waiting for the gate to open.
“Should we turn the water off?” she says, her focus zeroed in on my mouth.
“No.” I crowd in close, pressing her face into my shoulder, positioning myself at her warm, wet entrance with my other hand. When I’ve got just the head tucked inside paradise, I circle my hands around back of her and take two handfuls of ass. “If anyone comes home, the shower is going to muffle the sound of me bottoming out in this pussy.”
I drive forward, not slow, not fast, somewhere in between, and I don’t stop until I’m buried and I actually shout. While she sobs into my shoulder, I shout at the swiftness of my balls jacking up, throbbing against my undercarriage. And it’s no wonder, because she’s a dream. Like I knew she’d be, but a million times better. Slick and snug and pulsing. Despite the very real threat of coming too early, I can’t stop my hips from grinding her into the counter, trying to gain more ground inside of her. Needing all of her to be mine. Mine.