Chapter 7 Bunny
seven
Bunny
Inever realized how small my shower is until Smoke crowds his way inside with me.
He doesn't try to hog the heat or the water. Instead, he presses his back against the tile, arms loose at his sides, and just… watches. Drinks me in like I'm something to savor.
I'd tell myself he's only looking—but his body is already lying for him.
I don't mean to glance down, but there's no way in hell I can't notice his cock. Thick, heavy, hanging there between his thighs. My stomach tightens, and my pussy clenches from just thinking about what it would feel like as my thoughts derail completely.
Somehow, I keep my hands to myself instead of reaching out for him. I need to wash today away. It’s hard to concentrate when his eyes follow every movement as I lather my hair.
Does he even blink when I drag soap down my arms, my ribs, and my hips with my fingers? Then, when I finally tuck my hand between my thighs, Smoke finally cracks, letting out a low, raw groan.
What would he do if I actually touched myself? Pleasured myself with a solo audience member.
My usual teasing wouldn’t cut it. No, I’d be putting the man through a round of torture.
The thought makes me smirk against the spray. I pull my hand away and step back, offering him the water. Curling one of my fingers helps clear the fog from his gaze.
He moves like he's been waiting for permission his whole life.
Once he's close enough that I feel the heat rolling off his skin, I turn my attention to clean the place I’ve been purposely saving for last because of the dread forming in my gut. As I scrub my cheeks until they sting, the last trace of my mask disappears, replaced by suds.
Not many people see me bare-faced. If they did… I don't think I'd get as many second glances. My flirtatious lines aren’t the only thing I manifest to get tips. Every morning, I spend an hour in front of my mirror making myself look nice. Now, all of that work is going down the drain.
Showing Smoke this side of me, the one that’s bare and vulnerable, makes my heart clench. What if he only wanted the idea of me? What if he sees this face and realizes he made a mistake?
Yet… he's not looking away.
He's washing himself with my vanilla soap like he's forgotten how his own hands work. Slow and awkward, like he can’t remember what he’s already cleaned and what still needs to be touched. His breathing is actually getting shorter.
This guy. This grumpy, dangerous man really wants me…
It sounds too good to be true.
I chew my lip and let myself stare now. Watch him work suds through his hair, his beard. I doubt he thought he'd end the day smelling like a bakery, but that's what's going to cling to him for the rest of the night. The smell of me.
As I bite my lip at the thought, he lets out another groan.
"You keep doing that on purpose..." Cursing under his breath, he pinches his eyes shut long enough to wash away all the suds clinging to him. "I can't even think when you're near me. I've never met a person who has that much effect on me."
Admitting the words, he makes it sound less of a problem than it is. Making it more like a compliment, I can't help the grin that forms on my lips.
Stepping toward him, I flatten a hand on his chest and feel the thump of his heart against my fingertips. Even now, his heart is racing. I swear I've never met someone with such a perfect poker face. If it weren't for touching him, I would never have known how much I'm affecting him.
"Please, tell me more." Grinning, I consider lifting on my toes so I can kiss him. Instead of caving to a sweeter temptation, I go for a more sultry one. One that we'll both enjoy, even if it makes it harder for him to continue.
My other hand snakes lower before I boldly wrap my fingers around him. One squeeze of his cock and I'm the one sucking in a quick breath. He's a big guy, so I can't be shocked by how much he fills my fingers.
He suddenly stiffens, and if it weren't for his cock jumping against my palm, I'd think he hated it. When his chest swells, his breathing turning heavier, a deep rumble leaves him. Dropping his head, he looks at my fingers and curses.
"You're going to kill me, Bunny." His words get cut off into a choking sound as I start to stroke him. When I move too slow for his liking, heat fills me as he thrusts his hips into my grip.
"I'd rather make you come," I joke, smiling when he forces a laugh. Now's not the time to joke, but boy, do I like that rumbling sound he makes. But not as much as I like the sound he makes as I touch him. A gutted moan catches in the back of his throat next.
The more sounds he makes, the more I want to see this side of him.
Actually, I'm greedier than that. I want to know everything about this man. That includes everything no one else does.
"Can I ask you something?" Turning my stroking into something slower, I bite the inside of my cheek when he grunts, barely able to give me an answer. "What is your name?"
He blinks a few times, realizing what I'm asking him. It's a line laid out, one I want to cross. His throat bobs, and he pauses to kiss me. It's a soft kind of kiss, one that plucks at my heartstrings. Pulling back, his eyes pinch shut, and his breathing grows heavier. "Roland."
It's a nice name. Wondering how many others know it, I can't help but feel even more special.
I want to know how it feels to say it out loud.
"Roland..." Whispering his name, I feel it. The way his cock twitches in my grip and his chest stills. Biting my lip, I question if he hates his name as much as I hate mine. Squeezing him at the base of his girth, I drag my fingers up and groan softly. "Roland."
His entire front rumbles with what sounds like a growl before he flattens his hands against the tile. Cursing under his breath, he thrusts forward into my grip.
Oh, he likes it. What a pleasant discovery.
"If we were anywhere else but my small tub, I'd want to sink to my knees and take you into my mouth.
" Listening to him pant as I continue to stroke him, I have to force back a laugh when he groans and pinches his eyes shut.
"You're thinking about it now, aren't you?
Probably wondering how much I could take in? "
Letting my head dip with his, my mouth waters as I watch my fingers move. Much to his dismay, I slow to a stop. Waiting for his eyes to open, I stroke the halfway point of his cock with my finger.
"I could take this much easily, but here?
" Dragging my way up a couple of inches, my breathing grows heavier.
"But right here? You'd hit the back of my throat.
" Just to torture him a little more, my nail grazes the pulsating vein that runs up to the patch of hair above.
"But I wouldn't stop until I reached here. "
He growls at the promise in my voice before moving one of his hands away from the wall, only to bury it in my hair.
Pulling my head back, his kiss is bruising and rushed, as if he can't help himself.
He's breathing like he's run a mile, and as soon as my hand resumes stroking him, I can figure out why.
He's close. His stomach is jerking, his thighs twitching. Squeezing him tighter, he growls my name like a curse before finally, heat splashes against my stomach.
Smoke's too busy kissing me to let me look, but I feel every spurt of his release leave him before he's sandwiching me against the cool wall.
Is it always such a turn-on to watch a guy fall apart? It makes me want to keep touching him, to make him hard all over again so I can keep experiencing such an arousing act.
Breaking away to fill my lungs, I can't help but shiver. Not just because of what happens when we disconnect, the mess he's made on both of us, but because the water is starting to lose its steam.
Watching his release wash away until nothing lingers, Smoke huffs and shuts off the shower. Despite looking like he enjoyed his release only moments ago, he's right back to looking mad.
Before I can ask him what's wrong, my feet suddenly no longer touch the tub as Smoke scoops me up into his arms. We're both dripping, but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. Doesn't care that he shouldn't swoop me up like this in a dangerous place.
Clinging to him, we're out of the bathroom before I can wrap my mind around what is going on. My apartment is small and simple, so finding my bedroom across the hall isn't hard. Even easier, hunting down my bed.
Smoke tosses me down with ease, throwing me against the mess of blankets. Jesus, does he not know how to manhandle a woman? Then again, I think I'm digging the roughness that comes with this man. Especially with the impatience that's partnered up with it as he joins me on the bed.
Just as his legs meet the mattress, his hands are pressing against my knees. In a matter of seconds, he has my thighs spread open to get a good look at what's between.
I'm flushed in a way that can't be blamed on the shower water. No, this is all this man's doing. I don't need to follow his gaze to know he's looking at the sheen against my lips, my arousal as obvious as his.
Shaking his head, he lets out a sigh of disbelief. Keeping my legs parted, he works his way between them until his shoulders are grazing my hips. Before I know it, he's hovering close enough that I feel his next sigh against my swollen clit.
Is he purposely taking his sweet time to make me beg him to touch me?
I'm there, at the point of begging. I can already feel the words forming on my tongue.
Smoke must be a mind reader, because he doesn't make me wait a second longer.
Dipping down, his tongue traces my slit before his thumbs part me open.
From my entrance all the way to my clit, he tastes my juices with a deep moan on his part.
Giving my nub hardly any attention, he drags his way back down before tracing my opening.
I barely hear his breathy “fuck” before he's plunging his tongue inside.
Fuck is right.