21 #2
When we reached the bedroom, my breath caught. Somehow, while I’d been busy putting away the leftovers, he’d lit every candle.
“Nash,” I gasped. The room looked so romantic. The soft glow of candlelight bathed the space in warmth, creating the perfect atmosphere.
“Tonight’s all about what you want,” he said, smiling but with a hint of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasn’t sure he’d done enough.
“Will you take a bath with me?” I asked, cutting him off before he could kiss me, because I knew if he started, we wouldn’t make it to the rest of his plans.
“If that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want.”
Nash led me into the bathroom and turned on the water in the massive tub.
The only light came from the flickering candles he’d arranged on the counter and along the rim of the tub, casting a soft golden glow that was equal parts sexy and serene.
He added a few drops of scented oil, and soon the room was filled with the warm, heady notes of musk and vanilla.
It was perfect, creating an intimate, romantic mood that made my heart flutter.
I smiled to myself as I thought back to our childhood. If anyone had told me back then that Nash Reed would grow up to be this romantic, I never would’ve believed them.
“Do you want to see if you like your purchase?” I asked teasingly.
“God, yeah,” he replied instantly, eyes locked on me.
He sat down on the edge of the tub, his gaze never leaving mine. “Did you like it?” he asked, his voice low and filled with anticipation.
“Mm-hmm.”
“I wasn’t sure what you would prefer, so I bought a few,” he said with a playful grin.
“I noticed.” I giggled, untying the belt of my robe. “I didn’t know what you would prefer either.”
“I like you in anything, Kennedy, but most of all, I like you without anything on.” He smirked, adjusting himself on the edge of the tub, clearly ready for the show I was about to put on.
It wasn’t really a show, but I did my best, letting the robe slip down one shoulder, revealing the thin strap of the black lingerie.
“I really like it so far,” he murmured, his voice growing hoarser with each passing second.
“That’s good.” I laughed softly, letting the robe slide off my other shoulder. “Do you think you’ll like this too?”
“Hold on, baby,” he interrupted, standing up suddenly. I froze, unsure of what he was about to do.
Nash walked over to me, towering above me with his tall, muscular frame. Gently, he took my glasses off and placed them on the counter, then reached for the tie holding my hair up. Once my hair was loose, falling softly down my back, he stepped back and sat down on the edge again.
“You are stunning, Kennedy,” he whispered, his eyes dark and hungry.
I didn’t respond, just slowly slid the robe further down, revealing the full curve of my bra and the cleavage it created.
Nash growled low in his throat, a raw, primal sound that sent heat rushing through me.
The bulge between his legs grew, and knowing just how much he wanted me only fueled my own arousal. I wanted to be seductive, beautiful, and irresistible for him.
The warm steam from the bath and the wine in my system helped me relax and push aside my lingering shyness.
I slid the robe all the way down, exposing my bra and a hint of my stomach.
Nash’s eyes followed every move, intense and focused.
He shifted in place, his erection straining against his pants.
I let the robe fall to the floor. His gaze raked over me, and the raw hunger there made my pulse race.
“Oh, fuck,” Nash grunted, his eyes glued to the tiny black underwear I was wearing.
“Do you want me to keep going?” I asked, my voice thick with anticipation.
“Yeah,” he rasped.
His eyes followed my every movement, and before he even realized it, his hand drifted down to his arousal, stroking it through his pants. My breath hitched, and I bit down on my lip, hard. I hadn’t expected how much seeing him touch himself would turn me on.
“Take your clothes off,” I ordered, surprising myself with how bold I sounded.
Without hesitation, Nash stood, his eyes still burning with desire. In a fluid motion, his shirt and pants were gone, followed by his briefs. He stood naked before me, his erection hard and thick between his muscular thighs.
“Drop the bra,” he said, his voice low and commanding as he sank back down, watching me with an intensity I’d never seen before.
My fingers trembled as I reached behind me, unclasping the bra. I let the straps slide down my arms, the fabric slipping to the floor until I stood bare before him.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
“I want to see you touch yourself,” I said, barely believing the words that had just left my mouth.
A slow, wicked smirk curved his lips. He wrapped his large hand around the base of his erection, stroking deliberately slow. The sight of him—so unrestrained, so utterly male—made my pulse race and my thighs press together.
“Does this turn you on, baby?” he asked, his voice gravelly.
All I could manage was a breathless, “Yes,” my body trembling with desire.
“Good,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “Now . . . I want to see you do the same.”
I felt a rush of heat at his words, my breath catching in my throat. The way Nash watched me, his hand slowly stroking himself, made it impossible to think clearly. My body was already humming with desire, but without the wine I never would’ve been able to do what I did.
As it was, I ran my hand slowly over my stomach down to the tiny strip of black lace underwear. I cupped myself over the thin material, feeling exactly how wet I already was. Nash watched my hand as I slid it beneath my panties. He groaned, his hand moving faster over his thick length.
With a sharp inhale, I hooked my thumbs in the waistband and pushed my underwear down, stepping out of them before taking a step closer.
“Keep going,” he rasped, his gaze glued to my bare mound.
I slid my fingers back down, spreading myself open. I was so wet my fingers were soaked.
“Fuck,” Nash grunted, pumping himself harder. The veins on his dick were clearly visible, and the head looked dark and angry.
I closed my eyes briefly, overwhelmed by the sensation of my own touch, the heat of his gaze, the obscene sound of him stroking himself. When I opened them again, his eyes were locked on me, wild and ragged, his whole body taut like a predator about to strike.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growled as he watched, his strokes jerking faster.
“I want to touch you,” I gasped, breathless with anticipation.
“I want you to touch me too,” he rasped, eyes locked on my fingers. “Damn, look at your fingers, baby. Let me taste.”
He reached for me, pulling me closer, and brought my hand to his mouth.
His lips closed over my fingers, sucking them clean with a deep moan.
The sensation sent a jolt of heat through me, my legs weakening beneath me.
I dropped to my knees in front of him, my eyes level with his erection, which was bigger than I’d ever seen it before.
“Babe,” Nash groaned as I wrapped both my hands around his shaft, mimicking the rhythm he’d shown me earlier.
“Damn,” I sighed, my fingers barely able to contain him.
“I want to fuck you so hard right now,” he growled, voice thick with need.
“I can tell,” I teased softly, glancing up at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this big before.”
“It fucking hurts, I’m so hard,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “You need to tell me what you want, because I could come any second.”
I tightened my grip and pumped him harder, feeling his body tense under my touch.
“Ken,” he hissed, his breathing ragged, every muscle straining as though he was holding himself back by sheer force of will.
Ignoring his warning, I bent forward, letting my tongue swirl over the tip of his cock. He stiffened immediately, and when I looked up, his mouth was open, but his eyes—dark and blazing with desire—were glued to mine.
I held his gaze as I slowed my movement, swiping my thumb over the head, spreading the bead of precum.
“Do you want more, big boy?” I teased, my voice low and sultry.
“Oh fuck,” Nash groaned. He jerked in my hand, and before I had time to react, thick ropes of hot cum shot up, coating my fingers.
He hadn’t been kidding about any second.
“Fuck. I’m sorry, Kennedy. I’m so sorry.”
Even in the soft glow of candlelight, I could see the flush of embarrassment on his face.
“Stop,” I said gently, standing up and reaching for a towel to wipe my hand.
“That’s never happened before. Jesus, I feel like a teenage boy.”
I couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out as I handed him the towel. He muttered a sheepish, “Thank you” while he cleaned himself off.
“Nash,” I whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. He looked a little surprised but kissed me back. “Do you have any idea how good it makes me feel that I can affect you like that? Without even having sex?”
His eyebrows shot up; he was clearly surprised by my words.
“Really? You don’t think I’m a loser for not being able to pleasure the woman I love?”
I smiled, shaking my head. “Oh, you can still do that. I’ve got a feeling your ‘little friend’ will be up and ready to go again very shortly.”
“Little?” he asked with a cocky grin.
If I didn’t know he could back it up, that confidence might’ve been annoying. As it was, it was just another turn-on.
“Nash . . .”
He flashed me the boyish grin that always made my heart melt.
“Let’s get in the tub,” Nash suggested. “I want to love you.”
He helped me into the warm water. I let out a sigh of contentment as I sank down, the heat soothing every inch of me.
Nash stepped in after me. “Move forward. I’ll fit behind you.”
I slid forward, and he sat behind me, pulling me gently back against his muscular chest. His long legs bracketed mine, and his strong arms wrapped protectively around my torso, making me feel safe and loved.
“You really aren’t mad, Kenny?” he asked softly, his voice serious.
“Mad about what?”
“About me . . . just now. Not being able to hold back.”