“The world is like that,” he says. “The strong and the weak. The takers and the taken. My grandfather made that very clear. I’ve always known which category I want to fall into.”
“I think you’re succeeding.”
He kisses me, long and searching. “We can’t have a foursome,” he murmurs. “Will a twosome work?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“A bath.”
“For both of us?”
“Yes. The tub in my bathroom is huge, but I’ve never used it. I imagine we could put it to interesting use.”
Over his shoulder, my eyes clock Bonnie. She enters the kitchen, but seeing us, she turns on her heel. Giving us privacy.
I slide my hands up his neck. “You’re sure your office isn’t more attractive?”
“Compared to you? Absolutely not.”
His tub is big enough for two, even if we’re a snug fit with his tall frame. I lean against his chest in the water and close my eyes at the rising pleasure. His fingers have become expert, teasing between my legs, one hand on my soapy breast. His hard length is trapped between our bodies, digging deliciously into my back.
He puts his mouth by my ear. “Good idea?”
I give a shaky laugh, but it cuts off as he slips a finger inside. “Yes. Very.”
“You’re not too sore from yesterday?”
“A bit. The warm water is helping. Was that your plan?” I turn around to catch his eyes. They’re fixed on my breasts, rising above the water’s surface.
The sex we’d had last night had been rough and hard and I’d loved every single moment of it. It had also left my inner thighs sore this morning.
“It occurred to me, yes.” He adds another finger and my body stretches to fit him, aching in the sweetest of ways. “Think you can take me in the water?”
I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. His thumb has started to circle my clit and it’s hard to think around the rising tide of pleasure.
“Yes,” I whisper.
His chuckle is dark in my ear, but he makes me orgasm first, taking his time to warm me up. And when we shift in the bath, and he pushes inside of me, we both groan at the sensation.
It’s soft and quiet, a stark contrast to last night.
Afterwards, we’re silent and slow. Each movement feels heavy and I don’t want to speak, don’t want to break the magic.
We lie on our usual sides of his king-size bed. The room is cast in shadows, but they’re soft, comforting ones. I close my eyes at the sated tiredness in my body. He’ll be the death of me, this man. I can’t wait to see where it leads.
“Cecilia,” he says.
I turn on my side to face him. His profile is clear against the faint light of the city, the high forehead and the straight nose. “Yes?”
“I haven’t had someone like you in my life for a very long time,” he says. “I’m not always going to know how to handle it.”
In my chest, my heart does a double take. “I’m aware.”
“I’m going to fuck up, Myers. Probably a lot.”
“I know that, too.”
The words hang in the air.Be patient with me.