Chapter 30
thirty
I am wrecked.
Undone. Obliterated.
I’ve been with more women than I care to admit, and I’ve done things far more intense than a hand job in the shower.
But no one has ever made me feel so much.
I can’t fucking breathe.
It wasn’t just the way she touched me—as if she somehow read every twinge in my body and spoke its silent language. It was the way she nuzzled her cheek against my back. Her sweet, quiet reassurances.
She gave. So much more than just her hands on my skin.
I move all at once, spinning and snapping her into my arms. Hitching her legs around my ribs, banding my arms under her ass, and burying my face into her throat.
Shaking, I press tender kisses along the curve. Alice wraps her forearms around my nape, combing through my wet hair.
Hot water rains over us while I pant into her neck. Turning, I feel the tile to make sure it isn’t too cold and then press her into it, balancing with her legs twined around my waist and my face buried against her.
Ordinarily, I could do squats for half an hour with her strapped to me. But my knees are weak from the force of the climax she coaxed from me. And I want to make her come.
As soon as I’ve regained control of my faculties.
I can’t believe how good I feel. Most sexual encounters leave me uncomfortably sober, mired in some dark, disjointed disappointment that hits almost the instant my orgasm ends. I remember it so clearly—the sudden, fierce urge to be alone.
Being with Alice could not be more different.
My body hums, heavy and sated. Intense euphoria clouds my mind, obliterating everything aside from relief and gratitude and Alice.
I want to sink into her and never resurface.
And she lets me.
Instead of turning to her own needs or rebuilding the walls that lie in rubble around us, Alice holds me.
She weaves her delicate fingers into my hair, gently soothing me while I recover from the tumult flipping my thoughts inside out.
After a few moments, she moves on to the tight muscles in my shoulders, massaging them, even though her wicked hand job has already stripped every bit of tension out of my body.
I want to praise her and thank her and give her everything she’s given me. But every time I try to form words, my throat feels too thick. And the longer she hugs me, the more I need her not to let go.
I’m decimated. And completely at the mercy of little blonde Alice, with her magic fingers and her hummingbird kisses. Her deliciously slippery skin. The molten heat of her core searing the spot above my navel.
Am I… getting hard? Again?
I can’t recall a single occasion in my life when I’ve finished and recovered so quickly.
But thinking about Alice’s naked pussy pressed into my abs does it.
One day, I will get her off by rubbing her over them until she can’t take it anymore.
That will make every abdominal workout I’ve ever done more than worth it.
I go from nuzzling her neck to kissing it, lightly sucking beads of water off her creamy skin. Her hands pause mid-massage while her breath hitches, thrusting her chest into my pecs.
I leverage myself upright, finally taking in the glory of her naked breasts, drenched and on display. They are bigger than I imagined. Large enough to fill my hands and spill out of my grasp, which is saying something.
I almost smile when I see the pink of her nipples. Just as I suspected the day I found her in her towel, they do match her lips. And the combination is truly striking.
All cream and roses and soft, luscious woman. She’s so fucking pretty. Stunning, especially with the dark tile behind her, playing up the pale glow of her skin and her curls.
While I stare, Alice’s mouth hangs ajar, dragging in loud breaths. Her blue eyes widen and blink, projecting innocence and hunger.
My shy, sweet girl. Something about her gets to me in a way nothing and no one else ever has. She slips right between my ribs, sails through my heart, and sinks into my soul.
Before, it bewildered me. I didn’t understand it, so I couldn’t enjoy it. But here, in this moment of vulnerability, I don’t want to understand how or why she got in there. I just want her to stay.
The scalding water has cooled to a comfortable warmth. I lap it off her skin, bending to follow the curve of her breast. She arches her back, gasping when I suck one furled nipple between my lips and tug.
I hold her steady with one arm banded around her soft, thick waist. The other hand reaches for the full curve of her ass, kneading the supple skin while I make my way to my ultimate goal.
The place between her thighs is silky and hot. I run my bent finger over her, parting her lips to graze my knuckle against the bud pulsing at the top of her folds.
“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, Alice? Getting so wet for me.”
Another breathless sound slips out of her. “Marco,” she cries. “Please!”
A roar builds in my chest when I touch her clit, feeling it pulse. It’s wide enough for me to press two fingertips over it, working it with both pads at the same time.
With my thumb, I trace along her lower lips, skimming back to dip into the liquid desire pooled at her opening. She’s so tight, I have to gently twist my way in. The second I do, a slick rush gushes over my hand. The sensation rips the air from my lungs just as a cry tears from hers.
“Is that good, sweet girl?” I nip at her throat and brush my lips up to her jaw. “God, you sound beautiful when you moan for me.”
The hands gripping my hair tug harder. Another moan echoes through my bathroom, louder. I hide a smile against her shoulder. For all of her stammering and mumbles, my sweet girl can get loud.
I fucking love it.
“Look at you,” I groan into her ear. “I’ve never seen anything so perfect.”
This time, she keens. And gasps my name again, tightening her legs, squeezing closer. Her reactions finally click in my mind, reinforcing something I’ve suspected since the first night I went to her apartment.
Praise.
She doesn’t just like it. It gets her off.
Alice wants to be told just how amazing she is while I make her come.
I am so turned on by the thought, I move to kiss her, wanting to swallow her sounds after I say, “Just like that. Good girl, Alice.”
Our open mouths settle in a graceless graze, our tongues meeting in shallow flicks and deeper plunges while she mewls. Her slick essence runs down my hand. Her clit throbs under my touch, and she comes all over my fingers.
For all her moaning and screaming before, she only lets out the smallest whimper while her pussy spasms around my touch. I hear it, though. And the sound sends a vicious throb of joy through my chest.
Her body melts in my arms. Our eyes meet through the fog steaming up the shower stall.
The ecstasy hazing her blue irises fills me with pride. She blinks, fluttering her lashes the way she tends to when she gets nervous. She opens her mouth to speak, but stops as her gaze roams over my features, collecting clues as to my thoughts. Instead of speaking, her lips start to tremble.
I understand. I don’t know what I understand, but an overwhelming rush of feeling presses against the wall of my chest, too, rising up to block my throat.
I drop my forehead to hers, cupping her jaw in my hands, trailing my fingers up to her hair. Something inexplicable passes between us while we stare through the fog.
Keeping her pressed between my body and the wall, I eventually reach for her hands and gently soap them, tracing a tiny smudge of blue paint along her thumbnail. I smile involuntarily—even her stray streaks of paint are sexy. More evidence of all the secret depths I get to see up close.
And I don’t know what Alice’s final decision about me will be.
But I know mine.
I’m going to keep her.