Chapter Twenty-Four #3
Once we step inside the shower, our bodies magnetise together under the shower head.
I can feel every part of him, warm and wet under the spray of the water.
I would be lying if I said our proximity wasn’t sending blood rushing between my legs, but I just ignore it, as Zander does his own physical response.
We don’t speak, our hands just caress and stroke every available inch of skin, skipping over the intimate areas as we slide our fingers through the suds.
Leaning closer, Zander’s lips brush against mine, but he doesn’t seal them; he just traces the bow of my mouth with his own.
He repeats the process over and over, like he’s committing the shape to memory, my own mouth learning his at the same time.
When he eventually pulls back, he looks at me through half-lidded eyes– hungry and captivated, before spinning me to face the wall.
He washes my hair thoroughly, massaging my scalp with skillful fingers and placing featherlight kisses along my upper back.
My eyes remain closed the entire time; if I don’t get to look at him firsthand, then I’ll conjure his image in my mind.
I can feel him everywhere, all at once. He’s invading my mind and my body in an all-out conquest, and he probably doesn’t even realise it.
I feel the skim of a single finger trail down my spine, stilling when it reaches the crease of my behind.
He strokes up and down my back multiple times, the stopping point getting lower and lower, until his finger gently traces the crease between my cheeks.
He doesn’t apply any pressure, doesn’t probe any further than surface level, he’s just exploring, testing our boundaries and possibilities.
My erection twitches with every stroke; the anticipation alone is almost enough to guide me to release.
I should probably warn him, but I also don’t want to break the security that the silence offers.
His fingers lazily trail down once more, but this time he doesn’t stop at the curve.
He continues until he grazes the underside of my sac; they draw closer to my body in response, and I know I can’t keep quiet.
“Zander,” my voice is barely there, buried under the weight of emotion. “You might want to stop…” His movements pause, and his own excitement pulses against me.
“What if I don’t want to?” He murmurs into my neck as his hands snake around my hips, gripping tight and waiting for my response. I rest my head back against his shoulder, as his fingers meet the trail of hair leading down to my length.
“Is this okay?” He asks, slowly teasing the area above where I need him.
“Mm,” is all I can say, my mind too busy focusing on holding in the release building. He trails one finger the entire length of my sensitive erection, swiping at the come beading at the tip, before dragging it back down.
“That?”
“Yes…” He does it again. I can tell by the position of his head beside mine that he’s watching, monitoring my reactions to his touch, learning what brings us both pleasure.
“Are you close, Jules?” He grips my base suddenly, squeezing as he waits.
“So close,” I pant.
“Can I try?”
“Y-yes.” Because why wouldn’t I want that?
His hand starts moving as he pumps me in his fist with a firm grip. I last all of three strokes before I’m spilling my release into his hand and the tiles in front.
The sight of my release webbed between Zander’s fingers is enough to make my heart speed and head spin with embarrassment, so, doing the first thing that comes to mind, I grab his hand and push it under the running water before he has the chance to study it.
He looks bemused and gives a little shake of his head.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Jules. Not with me, okay?” He doesn’t give me a chance to argue; he just places his lips over mine and gently washes my most sensitive parts.
“Zander,” I say between pauses for breath, “It’s my turn…”
“It’s okay, Jules.”
He doesn’t want me to?
“But you–”
“Can I be honest with you, without you reading too much into it?” His face is serious now. It’s not exactly comforting.
“I guess it depends what you’ve got to say."
A laugh slips from between his lips. “That's fair. You know me better than anyone else, Jules, and you know how difficult change is,” he starts, and I don’t have a good feeling about where he’s headed.
“And this is a lot of change, in not a lot of time– not just between us, but in myself, too. I know I said you could set the pace, but you already had a head start in the identity department.” Oh, so he’s struggling with the change, I guess it makes sense.
I don’t know when things started to change for him, but when those feelings crept up on me, I remember not trusting myself not to ruin everything until I knew for certain.
“So, did you enjoy what we just did?” I ask, needing clarity on where we stand.
“I enjoyed it, Jules, and that’s part of what’s chewing me up. I thought I knew who I was, what I liked, and didn’t. But it turns out I don’t really know who I am.”
“I do,” I answer, because I know exactly who Zander is– he’s everything.
“I know you do, you see me in a way no one else ever has. You know me better than I know myself, but I want to know me, too.”
I think I get it. With his painful history and his struggle with change, it only makes sense that he wants to be in control of his choices, his actions, his life.
He enjoyed touching me, and that alone is a big revelation that he needs time to sit with.
He needs to sort the pieces in his mind and find a new pattern to weave us into; we’re a far cry from the people we were only last year.
“You’re too important to me to lose. I want to go into this with my head and my heart, not my cock and confusion.”
“Then we’ll take it slow. Once you get to know the Zander that I know, I think you will love him just as much as I do.” He wraps his arms around me, pulling our bodies close and swaying us side to side.
“Love, hmm? Didn’t we just talk about change?” He laughs and buries his face into my neck.
“That’s never changed, Zan.” And with that, I give him my heart, hoping that he can protect it as he has me, all these years.