Chapter 20
Twenty
It’s all I can do not to pull the car over again on the way back to the manor and drag Cinder over the stick shift to ride me. The moment I sank into her, I was lost. I will never get enough of her. Ever.
Now that she knows everything, I feel lighter. Well, almost everything. I confessed my deepest shame, and she didn’t send me packing. Surprisingly, she pulled me closer.
I park in front of the manor, and we climb out. The mansion has an even more ominous feeling to it in the dark. Heavy mist hangs low to the ground, and the low lights on the outside flicker in the darkness.
Cinder takes my hand, and I’m not sure if it’s to stay connected with me or whether she’s scared. I grew up here, so not much fazes me anymore, but sometimes Midnight Manor feels like an entity of its own.
We make our way through the manor to the south wing. I lead her to the en suite of my bedroom and start the shower to allow the water to heat up. She watches me with keen eyes, and I reach behind my neck, pulling my Henley over my head.
Her gaze darts to the large raven tattoo covering the side of my ribcage. Cinder breaks the distance, tracing her finger over one open wing, then over the large claws on the bird’s feet.
Her gaze flicks to mine. “The stained glass and a tattoo. What does the raven mean?”
I wrap my hand around hers and bring it to my mouth, kissing her palm. “My mother used to call me her little raven because I had a good memory despite being young and was smart. She used to say I was wise beyond my years. Even though I was so little, I always wanted to protect her from my father.” I swallow. “It’s one of the few really solid memories I have of my mom.”
Cinder runs her palm over my face. “You miss her.”
I nod, my hands inching down to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. Her hand leaves my cheek, allowing me to strip it off her.
“Yeah, though sometimes I think I’m missing a ghost. I don’t remember enough to really miss her if that makes sense.” I step closer to her, reach around to unhook her bra, and slide the straps down her arms.
Her bare tits are heavy on her chest, and as always, my hands itch to feel the weight of them. I remind myself that this time I don’t have to hold back or control myself to not overstep. My hands cover her voluptuous tits, so much more than a handful, and I squeeze gently. Her eyes flutter closed.
I knead and rub, running my thumbs over her stiffened nipples, eliciting a soft moan from her. If I don’t stop fixating on her tits, we won’t make it into the shower.
I finish undressing her with her watching me, our eyes catching after each piece of disposed garment. Then I strip down, grab her hand, and lead her into the oversized walk-in shower with a showerhead on each end.
The water is hot and soothing, steam rising from the droplets of water filling the space. She drops her head back into the spray, moaning as the water coasts over her body. I watch the rivulets stream down her tits and drop off her nipples, my tongue aching to follow the same path.
“Let me shampoo your hair.”
She smiles and turns around. I grab the shampoo bottle and empty a healthy dose into my palm, then massage it into her hair.
“That feels so good,” she says as I run my fingertips over her scalp, working the shampoo into a lather.
My dick twitches between our bodies, but I ignore its desperate plea for attention, wanting to make this about her. I work the lather through her hair all the way down to the ends and guide her under the water so the back of her head is facing the spray again. While she washes the suds from her hair, I grab the conditioner and squirt it in my palm.
I look up to find Cinder looking at me, and her eyes are filled with lust. Her head is probably swimming with all the same naughty thoughts as mine, but I persevere and twirl my finger, instructing her to turn back around. I work the conditioner through her hair, finger-combing her long blonde strands, until it’s all covered. I pull the showerhead from the wall and rinse it out myself.
When I finish, she circles around. “My turn.”
She grabs the shampoo off the shelf, her nipples grazing my hard chest. My dick twitches between us, and she chuckles. I stifle a groan when she steps closer and brings her hands into my hair to massage the shampoo in. She intently watches what she’s doing while I study her face.
She’s so fucking beautiful. Those big blue eyes of hers are full of innocence, but her plump lips and the way they curve up at the corners is all sensuality. Unable to hold back any longer, I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss, but I inadvertently step back into the spray, and the suds wash down my face and fill our mouths with a god-awful taste.
We both laugh, and I drag her into the spray with me until the shampoo washes away. Then I pick up the bar of soap.
“Ready to wash up now?” I arch an eyebrow.
Cinder bites her lower lip, and holy fuck, am I ever looking forward to seeing those lips wrapped around my cock.
“Why do I feel like I’m going to end up more dirty than clean?” she says with a smirk.
“Only one way to find out.”
I start off innocently enough, rubbing the bar of soap over her back and her arms. Then I get down on my haunches and run the bar up and down her legs, over her amazing ass. Her breath hitches when it coasts over her mound and between her legs. After turning her toward the spray to rinse off, I stand. Once there’s no more soap on her, she moves to step back out of the spray, but I cage her in from behind, forcing her chest into the tile.
My hand traces down her side, squeezing her ass before slipping between her folds. Cinder’s forehead drops to the tile.
“Are you too sore for this?”
She shakes her head against the wall and arches her back, offering herself to me. I chuckle deep in my throat and push two fingers into her. When I scissor them, she moans, her hands forming fists against the wall.
My balls tighten with the urge to sink into her from behind and take her like a rutting animal, but I deny myself. This is about her realizing how good I can make her feel so that she’s as obsessed with me as I am with her.
I pull them out of her slick heat, pushing them in again and again, picking up my pace until she’s panting against the wall. When I wrap my other arm around her and fondle her swollen clit, she cries out. I suck on the curve of her neck until she’s almost there, and when she reaches her highest point, I bite her flesh. She clenches around my fingers and comes on a cry, jutting her hips back and forth.
I let her ride out her orgasm and lick the place I just bit, mumbling into her skin, “If I wasn’t already obsessed with you, tonight would do it.”
She rests her cheek on the tile wall, looking at me over her shoulder. “The feeling is mutual.”
The steady buzzing in my veins is tempered only by the knowledge that there’s more I have to tell her. But how much can I pile on before her faith in me falters under the weight of my omissions? Tonight is not the night. She’s already had to deal with enough, and even Cinder’s understanding only goes so far. I still have a couple weeks before I’ll have to tell her. I’m going to make them count.