I sashay away and step into the bathroom. But I don’t lock the door, because I don’t really want to shower alone. I toss my dressing gown on the counter and purse my lips. If Nate doesn’t get my hint—hello, there was no sound of the lock clicking into place!—I’m going to be ve
ry disappointed.
I step into the glass stall big enough to host a foursome. The tiles feel slightly grainy, like fine sandpaper, against the bottom of my feet. I start the shower. The water—which comes out of the rainfall faucet above my head and twelve pulsing jets on three vertical chrome pipes—is instantly hot. I sigh under the spray. Now this is a perk I can totally get used to. Until I moved in here, I didn’t know water could come out hot without having to wait.
The door opens. My heart beats faster. Nate doesn’t disappoint!
He steps into the stall, having already discarded his boxers. His cock is hard and thick, the head almost touching his tight six-pack. My God, the man’s magnificent. Perfect. If he hadn’t been born rich, he could make a fortune as an underwear model.
“I don’t feel right, not making amends after what I’ve done,” he says lightly.
His gaze skims over my wet body from face to breasts to the flesh between my legs and below, then back up to my eyes. I feel the perusal like a physical touch, and my nipples pucker and my clit throbs. Hard.
“Oh yeah?” I say, slightly breathless now. “What are you going to do then?”
“Atone.”
Raising an eyebrow, I eye his impressive erection. “I don’t think a morning quickie is really a proper form of atonement.”
“Depends on the quickie.”
He steps toward me. Lust thickens my blood, need hammering in my chest. He wraps my hair in his fist and kisses me hard.
I part my mouth at the masterful plundering of his lips and tongue. He pushes inside, then pulls back, then again and again and again, imitating the sweet friction of his cock sliding into me from yesterday. But instead of pushing into my pussy, his cock is pulsing against my belly.
His other hand slides down my wet body, tracing my shoulder, then down my arm until it hits my wrist, then jumps to my hips and rises back up. He cups my breast, holding its weight in his big, warm hand, circling his thumb lazily over my wet nipple.
Thick pleasure courses through me, sending one electric zing after another until my toes curl against the ribbed tiled floor. He pinches my nipple between his thumb and index finger, then tugs gently. A cry gets strangled in my throat.
“Love your body,” he whispers, his voice rough.
I love what you do to my body, I think. But before I can tell him so, he takes the other nipple into his mouth. Gasping, I lean against the wall, my hands not finding any purchase against the smooth glass wall behind me. I grab the closest water pipe, then tunnel my fingers into his wet hair, holding on to him as my knees start to shake.
His mouth glides down, his legs bending. Then finally, he puts one of my legs over his shoulder and looks at my vulnerable pink flesh with bright, lustful avarice. “Gorgeous.”
He runs a finger along the folds, and I bite my lip. I can feel the slickness sliding down my thighs. It’s an incredible turn-on to have a powerful man kneeling between your legs, ready to give you pleasure.
“I want to hear you scream when you come,” he growls deep in his chest. “I’ve been wanting to spend a morning doing this to you for a long time.”
My face flames even as excitement sparks through me. He moves in and devours me like a starving man. His mouth pulls at my clit, making it throb until I think I’ll die from the sharply blissful sensation. He’s relentless, his fingers penetrating me, two at first, then three. I clench around them, sobbing as pleasure builds, pull by pull, breath by breath.
I start to get close. Nate curls his fingers just so, driving with just enough force to give me exactly what I need, as he tongues my clit with more lustful abandon than pure skill.
My vision turns blinding white as an orgasm shatters me. I scream his name, my back arching, my pelvis rocking and my whole body shaking.
He holds me tightly the entire time, his tongue lapping at me. When I finally stop trembling, he looks up at me with the same angelic smile he gave me earlier in the closet. And I feel my heart melt.
“How was my penance?”
I laugh breathlessly. “Very good.”
He kisses my belly. “Am I forgiven, then?”
“If you atone like this…?” I hold his hands and raise them. He comes up until he’s standing before me. “I suppose you are.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Evie