Chapter 17 #2
My gaze traveled over him, drinking in every perfect detail.
My breath caught in my throat, and a flush crept up my neck to my cheeks.
Unbidden images flashed through my mind.
I bit my lip, trying to rein in my runaway thoughts, but my body betrayed me.
My pulse quickened, and a familiar warmth pooled low in my belly.
Grabbing the body wash from the rack hanging under my shower head, he poured it into his hand, and I held out mine. He repeated the action in my hand. Snapping the lid shut, he put the bottle back before lathering up his hands.
Our hands moved in tandem, creating a dance of touch and sensation.
Fingers traced curves and planes, leaving trails of soap bubbles and goosebumps in their wake.
Each caress was a question and an answer, a revelation and a promise.
The steam swirled around us, cocooning us in our own world where time seemed to slow.
It was erotically intimate.
My fingertips slid the soapy lather down his chest, but before I could grip him, he spun me, using his body to press me hard into the warm tile.
Matt's mouth dropped to my ear, and the heat sent a shiver over my body.
"You are so fucking beautiful," he whispered as he worked the soapy bubbles across my back.
I rocked into him, sliding my ass over him. "If you don't stop…"
"I don't want to stop," I breathed. "I want to make you come."
My pulse scattered into chaos as his hands found my hips, our soap-slick bodies creating a friction that was both slippery and electric.
He spread my cheeks wide with his thick cock as his hand slid my hair to the side, and his mouth moved over my back, shoulders, and neck.
I rocked my ass harder against him, moaning when he worked his length through my cheeks.
He increased his speed, and so did I as I clenched around him. I wanted to hear him come.
"You first," he breathed against my ear.
His hand slid around, cupping my pussy and sliding a finger through my slick flesh. "Oh, fuck," I cried out when his finger flicked over my clit.
I ground myself harder against his hand, desperate for more friction. My cheek and the palms of my hands slapped flat against the wall to steady myself as his teeth sank into my shoulder.
Matt's hand tightened on my hip, holding me in place as two fingers slid inside, stretching me. "Fuck, your pussy is perfect," he groaned against my skin. The mixture of the heat of his breath and his dirty words made my insides melt. "So wet. So tight."
My hips bucked against his hand, desperate for his touch as I rode his fingers, unleashing incoherent pleas and moans.
"Don't stop," I moaned, his finger finding a rhythm that made my whole body spasm in violent convulsions as the pleasure building in my core pushed me closer and closer to the edge.
Our heavy breathing and the wet noises of his fingers pumping in and out of me echoed over the sounds of the water hitting the tile.
"Come for me, baby," he rasped against my ear, and my pussy clenched around his fingers. "Come all over my fingers." His thumb added more pressure to my clit as he continued to move inside me. "Show me what it's gonna feel like when I've got my cock buried inside you."
"Matt," the name vibrated from my throat as the orgasm shattered me. "Oh my God."
My muscles twitched and surrendered in waves, aftershocks of pleasure echoing outward as the orgasm rippled through my body.
My satisfied body relaxed against the tile wall, the cool surface a marked difference to my heated skin. One breath. Two. Processing not just what had happened but what it meant, how different this felt.
With my ex, I'd always needed a performance, calculated moans, and practiced movements, all while a detached part of my mind observed from a distance, making sure I looked good from every angle. Sex had been a transaction: my pleasure secondary, my vulnerability a liability to be managed.
This was… uncalculated. Raw. Real.
I spun around, shoving Matt back. Not to escape, but to claim. To give rather than just receive.
It was his turn.
He stepped back, his gaze raking over me with an intensity that would have made me cover myself yesterday. Today, it made me stand taller.
For the first time in forever, without the liquid courage that had become my shield, I didn't shy away. Didn't turn off the lights. Didn't suck in my stomach or position myself at a flattering angle.
I let him see me. All of me. Every curve that didn't conform to magazine standards. Every stretch mark told the story of my body's journey. Every insecurity that had been magnified by years of subtle criticism.
What reflected in his eyes wasn't tolerance or polite appreciation, it was a raw, red-hot hunger, a desire so intense it was almost palpable. And in that reflection, I recognized something I'd forgotten: I was worthy of being wanted, not despite my perceived flaws, but as a complete being.
I'd never felt sexier. Or more terrifyingly vulnerable.
Lowering to my knees, my gaze froze on his massive dick. I knew he was big. I felt him under me. But seeing it up close was slightly intimidating.
My tongue swept out, wetting my dry lips as my hand wrapped around him. He groaned as a shudder rolled over him at my touch, and it turned me on even more.
I dared to look up, finding myself ambushed by the raw hunger in his expression, a look that bypassed every defense and lit a fuse deep inside me.
I studied him as my hand stroked slowly from the base and rolled over his wide head and back.
"Fuck." His eyes rolled just before his head fell back. One hand shot out, steadying himself against the tile wall. My chest swelled, fueling me with the confidence I needed.
I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around the head of his cock. Just the tip is a mouthful. My grip tightened, finding a rhythm as my tongue explored.
Matt's eyes met mine, holding my gaze with an intensity that made my stomach flip.
There was no looking away, no retreat into safer territory.
"You are so fucking beautiful," he breathed, his voice a reverent hush beneath the shower's steady beat.
Then, darker, "You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. "
Fuck. My thighs squeezed together. He was a gentleman in the streets but a freak in the sheets, and I didn't know it until this exact moment, but I freaking loved it.
His hand slid into my wet hair as I relaxed my jaw and slid him deeper into my mouth.
My speed increased as my mouth and hand pumped him in tandem, meeting each other in different spots each time.
Reaching up, my free hand slowly cupped his balls, gently fondling and massaging them as I pushed him to the back of my throat.
My jaw ached as it stretched to maximum capacity.
He grunted a moan as his fingers tightened in my hair, and I expected him to take control, but he didn't. I was in control, and something about that turned me on. I pumped him in and out of my mouth using my tongue to add friction and suction.
"Baby, I'm going to…" His entire body tensed, and his balls tightened in my hands. He was going to come, and I had no idea what to do.
Do I keep him in my mouth? Pull him out? Shit!
It felt like his admission was a warning, and it was my decision.
I kept going, keeping him in my mouth. My hands dropped and curled around his hips as I shoved him deep and then withdrew until his hand tightened, holding me with the tip of his cock on my tongue as he exploded.
The salty taste coated my tongue. My gaze lifted, meeting his as he pulled himself free, and holding his eyes, I swallowed.
My lips lifted into a smile, and I realized what I'd been missing for all the years that I'd wasted with someone who never loved me. I couldn't believe I'd let myself think that was all I was worth.
I didn't know where this was going or what would happen, but I was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
An alarm squealed, sharp, insistent, shattering the moment like glass.
We both startled, the intimate bubble around us bursting. Reality rushed in: the café opening, customers waiting.
"Shit," I muttered, clutching my chest, pulse racing for entirely different reasons now. The warm afterglow of pleasure collided with the cold panic of responsibility.
"Sorry," he said, water still cascading down his body as he offered me a hand. I hesitated, knowing that once I took it, once I rose to my feet, this stolen moment would truly end. His fingers remained extended, waiting. Finally, I placed my palm against his, allowing him to pull me up.
The shower continued running, counting down seconds we no longer had.
"That's my alarm warning me it's almost time to go." He stepped into me, pressing our naked bodies together one last time, a final defiance against the demands of the day: water and skin and the ticking clock.
"Go?" The question emerged smaller than I'd intended, more vulnerable.
"I have a meeting with my team this morning." The regret in his voice seemed genuine as he tucked a loose strand of wet hair behind my ear, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. "But I really don't want to go."
The shower water began to cool, another countdown, another reminder. Five minutes of hot water left, maybe less.
"I'd much rather put on a pink apron and bake chocolate chip cookies all day." His attempt at lightness didn't quite mask the reluctance in his eyes.
I laughed, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles, helping us both transition back to reality. "As fun as that was, I think you should stick to your day job."
The shower water ran cold. Time's up.
He laughed. "Okay," he pushed open the glass door and stepped out, and I was struggling to focus on anything but how his muscles flexed with every move he made as he wrapped a fluffy white towel around his waist. "So how about I drop you off at the café on my way to my meeting, and I will meet you there a little later. "
I wrapped my towel around me. "That sounds good."