Chapter Twenty-One Alex #2
Rome had backed me against the tiled wall. Arctic winter cold for only a split second, but enough to make me suck air through my teeth. Suddenly, Rome had his finger in my mouth. Not as adroit, likely since he hadn’t prodded me like that before, but I already knew where his mind went.
Need to guide him , was my first thought as I leisurely sucked at his finger.
His eyes were wide as his breathing dramatically increased.
I could feel the anticipation wafting off of him like a distortion in reality.
He stood at full attention, the head of his cock darting between the front of my closed thighs.
I took his wrist in my hand and pulled his finger out, then gave him an affirmative nod.
He licked his lips and with his free hand, grabbed my waist, then gently pressed our chests together as his other hand reached around to my backside.
I had one arm looped around his neck and the other loosely gripping his wrist to help guide him.
Rome’s eyes didn’t leave mine, as if he could divine my body’s reaction through an exchange of glances alone.
His finger dipped down through the crack in my ass and slid along until he found my hole, then hooked inside me up to the first knuckle.
A bit quick, but this wasn’t my first time, and I gave a breathy exhale to let him know he was on the right track.
Emboldened, he pushed to his second knuckle.
I dropped my ass a little and encouraged him by his wrist to go deeper.
He slipped his finger all the way inside me.
The way he breathed… it was as if he got more pleasure out of this than I did.
I gently pushed him away and spun before he could pull out. I gave him a good view by bracing my forearms along the shower, slightly bending over, and arching my back so that my ass popped. I heard him whispering something over the rush of the shower heads.
“More,” I said in a heady voice. “Come on. More.”
Rome slipped a second finger in me, this one nowhere near as hesitant as the first. I moaned with excitement as Rome began thrusting, slow and careful.
He massaged me just right and my cock jumped in response.
I pressed the side of my face against the tiling and groaned, then pumped my ass to the rhythm of his thrusts.
Again, he whispered something I couldn’t quite hear.
“One more,” I told him.
I watched over my shoulder as Rome let out a blob of spit that landed on his fingers. He did this twice more, then worked the spit inside me so his third finger could slip in. That elicited a long, deep growl. My entire body shuddered.
“Not gonna last,” Rome said. Was that what he had been whispering? He hadn’t even touched his own dick, that baseball bat of his standing at full attention and throbbing to the pulsing of his heart.
“C’mere,” I said and pushed off from the wall. He kept his fingers in me. I pressed my back to his chest, reached down, and grabbed his cock in my hand while my ass gyrated. I used my free hand to grab my own dick. I would pop any second, too.
“Go ahead,” I told him. It was difficult, but I pushed my chin as far to the side as I could.
Rome craned forward and our lips and tongues smashed in a maladroit attempt of a kiss.
It didn’t matter. In fact, the sloppiness of it only seemed to make me harder.
His fingers rubbing against my prostate just right, my own hand stroking me the way I liked, and his meaty bat in my other hand…
We came together in elongated shouts. Ribbons of come decorated the shower floor as the water rinsed it away in seconds. My body electrified as I let loose a new kind of orgasm that we had yet to achieve. I instantly wanted more despite coming down from the high of the climax.
Rome carefully pulled his fingers out and leaned the bulk of his weight onto me as if he needed to be held up. I laughed, fumbled on the slippery floor, and managed to prop him against me.
“Wow,” he finally said. I still had my hand on his dick and milked everything out of it until he kindly gestured for me to stop when he became too sensitive.
“Wow is right,” I told him. “That turn you on?”
“You have no idea.”
I laughed. “No, I think I do.” He laughed, too.
We washed each other, rinsed off, and Rome pulled me out of the shower and to the tub.
At some point the faucet had shut off, probably from the automated screen he used to turn it on.
He climbed in first and then asked for us to sit together on the same side instead of opposites.
I nestled blissfully against him as we stared out to the majesty of the calm Rhode Island bay set before us, the moon an accent mark to a tableau of stars.
Rome had his arms around my waist. The back of my head rested in the nook of his neck and shoulder. The tub was long enough for me to mostly lay flat, but Rome had his knees bent, his feet braced against the far end.
We stayed silent. The only sound filling the space was the occasional splash of water if one of us moved.
Through my cheek, I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Unspoken words bubbled between us, as if the quietude of this moment had its own declarations to make.
I felt it—I knew Rome could feel it, too.
I wondered if he could hear the words beating within me, begging to be spoken as we shared a moment of utter bliss.
I’m in love with you, Rome , I thought so intensely I worried he could absorb it through the contact of our skin.
Tomorrow, I knew suddenly. I’d tell him tomorrow. A day with his family, of good food and drink, followed by a night of lovemaking. Yes. I would tell him tomorrow.
As if Rome could read my mind, he turned and kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes. Opened my heart.
He’s the one .
I had never been so certain of anything in my life.