A Summer With Snow (Frosted Seasons #1) by Hallie Swanson

to die for. Steam wafts up from his broad chest. There’s a slight gap between us, yet he feels so warm. Standing here like this is everything I’ve ever pictured in my dreams; every sensation, every ounce of feeling rushes through the core of my body. The tips of his fingers take the edge of my T-shirt, and holding onto the cotton material they slowly glide up past my waist, past my breasts, and with my arms raised, past my fingers. I glance down as he drops my top onto the bed. Encased by his arms, he unclips the fastenings of my bra. I sense his chest has cooled as he leans his bare flesh against my breasts. I lower my eyes, expecting him to lift me onto the bed, and I’ve no desire to fight him. He rests his cheek against mine, and I flinch as his stubble rubs against my face. His lips part as they press against my ear, and I tilt my head ever so slightly so that they can move down to my neck.
    “You shower, Darcy; I left the water running.”
    His fingers, his lips slip away and he walks to the far side of the bed, still rubbing at his hair. Is he acting like the perfect gentleman or, after the way I’ve acted, is he just too scared to make the first move? As I look over his body the thought of him inside me is making me wet. I blush, feeling embarrassed at my own thoughts. What’s happening to you, Darcy?
    Filled with frustration, I saunter into a bathroom of wall-to-wall mirrors. I step out of my trousers and my black lace panties, and from the cold tiled floor into the shower. Blinded by steam, I lean my head back against the striking white wall tiles. I blink, screwing up my eyes as they are hit by jets of hot water. Taking the lathered soap from its porcelain dish, I rub it between my palms, touching my face, my arms. I begin circling my hands over my skin, trying to wash my frustration away; on reaching my breasts I circle my nipples … they are hard against my fingers. Still covered in soap and water, my hands dip down to my waist and on between my legs; slowly I begin to rub myself. I take his advice and pretend that’s it’s not me here, but someone else. Losing myself in my head, I feel I’m also losing my inhibitions.
    “Snow!” I cry out. “Can you come here?”
    Closing my eyes, my fingers move faster, and I groan at this pleasurable excitement. I hear the shower door open and close; then I feel his damp lips as they press and encase mine. My sex throbs for his fingers to explore, and I don’t have to wait for long, as he moves my hand and his take up their own sensual rhythm.
    His rough nails graze my skin as he opens my legs a little wider. I slide my palm down between us, down the muscular waves of his stomach, and clenching my hand I take hold of the head of his cock. It stiffens as I begin to move my hand up and down. This feels nothing like our first time, but so natural, so right, like I’m experiencing a sexual awakening; I want to explore his every damn inch. With warm water beating against my face, I kiss my way down, forging a line between his nipples and towards his muscular torso. I lap my tongue around the head of his cock, and he pulls my hair tight at the back of my head, manoeuvring my head up and down. He slides in with care, my mouth tightening around him. His strokes aren’t rough, but constant. I grip his hips, squeezing his flesh and pulling him harder into my mouth.
    His breaths come in gasps.
    “Darcy, do you want to taste Snow?” he pants.
    There’s no time to reply. His body trembles as warm creamy fluid pumps into my mouth, which I hold for a second and then swallow down. Trembling, he pulls away. I look up at him with a smile as my tongue licks my lips. He smiles open-mouthed, regaining his breath. I glimpse up at his heaving chest, which glistens.
    Sliding against his hot flesh I get to my feet; blinking towards him he pushes my wet hair away from my face. Pressed between his arms, he turns me around, pushing my breasts and flattening me against the cold tiles.