He’s a guy at the end of his patience, at the end of his rope.
“Who are you?” he growls.
A girl who loves you.
“Your prize.”
His other hand comes up and wraps around my neck, feeling my racing pulse. He’s harder than ever, hotter and darker and completely wild.
“Take off my pants.”
My hands fall to the waistband of his sweats and, swallowing, I do. He probably feels it under his palm, the jerk of my throat.
I manage to get them down to the tops of his thighs, exposing his hard cock that springs out like a weapon and slaps against his abdomen. Zach does the rest of the work, shoving them down and off his legs.
Then he walks me backward, his dick grazing my upper tummy. I feel its wetness rubbing over my skin.
Letting go of my neck and hair, he grips my waist and picks me up and puts me inside his ceramic bathtub before getting in himself and closing the shower curtain in one go.
Now we’re all enclosed, cornered and hidden inside this tiled space, him and me. He casts a shadow on the wall, covering me completely and leaving no space for me anywhere but inside the contours of his large body.
Zach simply stands there, staring down at me with intense eyes, and in this moment, I’m filled with a purpose.
He wants me to serve and I will.
Clenching my thighs, I grope the wall behind me for the shower knob. When I find it, I turn it on and water rains down on us.
I step into him and push back the hair that is slick on his forehead. Taking his hand, I change our places, getting him under the spray of water. It’s hard to look away from him, from the water sluicing down his muscles making him look so magnificent, but I do it.
I find the bottle of soap, squirt it on my palm before lathering it up. I start at his neck, going up and down the column of it, before moving down to his shoulders and chest. I make his skin all slippery and soapy and scratch his nipples, causing him to fist his hands on his sides.
Bending down, I soap up his torso. Stunningly hard and tight and defined.
Then I come down to my knees and soap up his cock. It’s the most delicate, intimate and powerful thing on his body. Long and thick and proud, it stands as I stroke it. My fingers slip in the soap and I graze my thumb in the slit.
I hear his groan and glance up to see him throwing his head back into the water as I work him.
My entire body feels swollen with my lust and my love for him. This towering dark prince.
He told me once that if he wanted, he’d make me his slave and I’d fall down to the ground so fast, my knees would bleed.
I think this is it.
I’m his slave now, kneeling on the ceramic tub, serving him. Even though there’s no blood on the outside, on the inside, I’m bleeding with his love.
I work his sac next, flexing them, rolling them in my palms.
It makes his cock jerk. A pearl of a drop leaks out from the top of it and mixes in with the bubbles of his spicy-smelling soap.
As much as I want to play with him, give him the relief he needs, I move lower. I need to pamper him first, spoil him before giving him his climax.
I soap up his thighs, my fingers sifting through the hair on them. Slowly, I move down and work on his calves. The muscles on them, Jesus. I never thought calves could be sexy but they are.
They so are.
When I’m done, I come to my feet and his nostrils flare. His eyes look stoned. They are dark and drunk, completely wasted.
Before I can turn him around, he grabs the back of my neck, pulling me flush to his soapy body. “What are you doing to me?” he whispers, turned on and angry.