Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Sami
He removes my panties and bra and kisses my breasts and the junction of my thighs with a reverence that floods my body with fresh need.
No one has touched me like this before.
I want to melt on the floor, but he turns the shower on and guides me under the soft stream of water. He’s not wrong. His shower is enormous.
As water flows over my body, he starts removing his clothes, watching me.
“Hurry up,” I order, feathering my fingers over my wet nipples.
“Being water-wise?” he asks on a low chuckle as he moves his hands to his black boxer briefs, the last item he’s wearing.
I laugh and then let out a soft oh as he removes his briefs.
He’s huge. And erect. And oh my God, huge.
Heat throbs in my sex, and I draw in a steadying breath.
He meets my stare. “I’ll be gentle.”
Fresh heat pools in my core, and I shake my head. “Just be you.”
His nostrils flare, and he steps into the shower and kneels in front of me, his mouth charting a path up the inside of my thighs before claiming my sex.
His tongue is amazing. He teases my clit over and over, and I come on his face, the water streaming over my own, licking over my skin as he licks at my orgasm.
He rises to his feet, looming over me. His hands skim my hips, my ribs, and my breasts before he tangles his fingers in my wet hair and kisses me. His cock nudges my belly, and I want him inside me so much I’m aching.
He lifts his head with a shaky groan. “You need to get out of the shower, Sami. Now.”
My throat tightens. “Why?”
He rakes his hands down to my butt and yanks me hard to his hips. “Because the first time I sink into your sweet pussy, I want you spread out on my bed with nothing between our naked bodies. Not even water.”
I get out of his shower.
He watches me from under the water, soaping his body as I dry myself with a fluffy towel.
I toss my head forward and wrap my hair in a towel, wriggling my arse at him as I do, and then straighten.
His laughing growl sends a hot pulse to my sex.
“You have the sexiest fucking arse I’ve ever seen,” he says as I smile at him over my shoulder.
He kills the water, stare holding mine. “Now get on my bed.”
His bed is massive. I’m crawling onto it, my skin flushed with anticipation, when strong hands grab my hips, and a hot tongue slides up over my folds, dipping into me.
I moan my approval, and Gibbo flips me onto my back, spreading my thighs wide with those same strong hands.
He takes possession of my sex with his mouth again, worshipping my clit before moving up my body and feasting on one breast and then the other.
I arch beneath him, and he sinks two fingers into me, drawing harder on my nipple.
I claw at his back, pleasure arching my spine more. “Yes…” The word bursts from me in a rough gasp. “Yes.”
He releases my nipple with a pop and gazes down into my eyes. “With or without a condom? I’m clean. I promise.”
My heart smashes into my throat, and I utter the truest words I’ve ever spoken. “I trust you, Tony Gibson. And I want to feel you inside me.”
His stare locks with mine, and I swear my heart is smashing so hard the air is vibrating. “You have no fucking clue how glad I am I went looking for bacon tonight,” he murmurs before he slowly sinks his thick, hard length into me.
Pleasure spreads through me, a fire of sensations that steals my breath and arches my spine. I claw at his shoulders, and he buries his face in the side of my neck, his lips hot on my skin, his cock stretching me, filling me, propelling me to the precipice.
We move together, my thighs framing his hips, his hands working my body, touching me, stroking me in all the right places in all the right ways. Until his name bursts from me in a raw cry, and my orgasm detonates, unmaking me.
He erupts at the same time, his thrusts wild, erratic, his breaths the same. He lifts his head and gazes down into my eyes, and I’ve never had anyone see me, truly see me, like I know Gibbo is.
It shakes me to my very core, and I close my eyes, riding the waves of my climax, lost to the pleasure he’s awakened in me.
Many heartbeats later, both our bodies still, he brushes a strand of hair from my cheek and lets out a low chuckle. “Best. Birthday. Ever.”
I smile, reveling in the sensation of his length still embedded in me. “Happy… How old are you?”
“Thirty-seven.” He searches my eyes. “Probably an old fart compared to you.”
I shrug, my boobs rubbing against his chest. “Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.”
He laughs, and something warm and profound curls through me. “Very deep. Can I quote you on that?”
“Mark Twain.” I wriggle beneath him and lock my ankles behind the small of his back.
I don’t want to think about our age difference.
Twelve years is inconsequential. I only want to think about how incredible he is and how much I like him.
How safe and wonderful I feel with him. “Do you think you could make love to me again without withdrawing now?”
His nostrils flare. “Challenge accepted.”
He does.
Twice.
I’m in the shower, spent and thoroughly sated, when he pops his head into the bathroom. “I know it’s three a.m., but would you like anything to eat? Ham and cheese toastie? Cheese platter?” He grins. “Personally, I could really go for some milk and cookies?”
“Do you dunk them?” I ask, rinsing the shampoo from my hair.
“Of course.”
Could he be any more perfect?