did I have much time to contemplate it. Now I can’t seem to do anything
else.
Before I can stop myself, I ask,
“Isn’t that uncomfortable?”
A low, surprised laugh breaks
from him. “Yes, but I might as well get used to it. This is how I am around
you.”
I’m not the only one swimming
against a current of carnal desire that threatens to carry me away?
Mimicking his own fondness for
issuing orders, I reach for the bottle of body wash. “Let me.”
He arches a brow in surprise but
doesn’t refuse. Even so, I can’t mistake the hot desire in his heavy-lidded
eyes that mingles with wariness as I slowly spread my hands across his chest. I
explore the powerful curve of his shoulders before brushing from the silky dark
hair shadowing his underarms down the sides of his chest to his hips and back
again.
By the time I pour more body
wash into my palms, his breathing is ragged.
Focusing entirely on the task I
have set myself, I move behind him to wash his back and buttocks, lingering for
a moment on the rock hard muscles there. He groans and reaches a hand to take
hold of me but I evade it and step in front of him again.
“Almost done,” I murmur and sink
to my knees.
His startled grunt delights me.
Slowly, with the same meticulous care that he gave me, I wash his feet and
legs. Long before I’m done, his erection is thrusting out from his groin,
demanding my attention.
Giving in at last to the
temptation I’ve felt from the first moment I saw him nude, I take both my
courage and the base of his penis in hand. The sensation almost undoes me. He’s
so smooth, so thick, so hard… I stroke along his length, finding the velvety
softness at the tip and catch a hot, silken drop of creamy fluid on my finger.
Obeying an urge I can’t resist,
I rise, step back just far enough so that my eyes meet his, and suck the tip of
my finger between my parted lips. He tastes salty and delicious, and I want
more.
But I’m not going to get it, at
least not right then. Ian closes his eyes for a moment as though he’s in pain.
When he opens them again, the sheer intensity of his hunger makes me gasp.
Before my courage can fail, I
turn and place my hands against the stone pillar, my legs spread and my
posterior thrust out at a most unladylike angle. His indrawn breath emboldens
me.
I turn, look over my shoulder at
him, and whisper a single word, “Please.”
What I see in his eyes almost,
but not quite, unravels me. I wanted to take the initiative and make it clear
that this is my choice. I can hardly complain about the outcome. Nor as it
turns out do I have any reason to do so. Ian grasps my hip with one hand and
with the other carefully inserts two fingers into me, circling the inner walls
of my vagina until I mewl in need.
He groans with relief. “Sweet
Amelia, so ready!”
A moment later, his fingers
withdraw. He positions himself, clasps both my hips, and in a single thrust
seats himself fully inside me. The shock of being so filled, so suddenly sends
an ecstatic shudder straight from my groin to the pleasure centers of my brain,
which seem in danger of imploding.
I can sense that he is teetering
right on the edge of losing control yet he still manages to hold on. Bending
low over me, his breath brushing the sensitive skin below my ear, he murmurs,
“All right?”
I manage a gurgle that I hope he
will take as agreement.
At once, he almost entirely
pulls out, then thrusts again and again, rapidly building to a pounding rhythm
that shatters my awareness of all else. The water falling over us, the smooth,
hard texture of the pillar under my hands, even the beating of my own heart
dwindle to insignificance.
There is only Ian, his power
claiming my own, our shared hunger, and the precipice of incandescent pleasure
to which he is driving us both.
I reach it almost too quickly, screaming his name as I do.
He joins me a moment later, his body arching over mine, his fingers splaying
over my abdomen, locking me against
else.
Before I can stop myself, I ask,
“Isn’t that uncomfortable?”
A low, surprised laugh breaks
from him. “Yes, but I might as well get used to it. This is how I am around
you.”
I’m not the only one swimming
against a current of carnal desire that threatens to carry me away?
Mimicking his own fondness for
issuing orders, I reach for the bottle of body wash. “Let me.”
He arches a brow in surprise but
doesn’t refuse. Even so, I can’t mistake the hot desire in his heavy-lidded
eyes that mingles with wariness as I slowly spread my hands across his chest. I
explore the powerful curve of his shoulders before brushing from the silky dark
hair shadowing his underarms down the sides of his chest to his hips and back
again.
By the time I pour more body
wash into my palms, his breathing is ragged.
Focusing entirely on the task I
have set myself, I move behind him to wash his back and buttocks, lingering for
a moment on the rock hard muscles there. He groans and reaches a hand to take
hold of me but I evade it and step in front of him again.
“Almost done,” I murmur and sink
to my knees.
His startled grunt delights me.
Slowly, with the same meticulous care that he gave me, I wash his feet and
legs. Long before I’m done, his erection is thrusting out from his groin,
demanding my attention.
Giving in at last to the
temptation I’ve felt from the first moment I saw him nude, I take both my
courage and the base of his penis in hand. The sensation almost undoes me. He’s
so smooth, so thick, so hard… I stroke along his length, finding the velvety
softness at the tip and catch a hot, silken drop of creamy fluid on my finger.
Obeying an urge I can’t resist,
I rise, step back just far enough so that my eyes meet his, and suck the tip of
my finger between my parted lips. He tastes salty and delicious, and I want
more.
But I’m not going to get it, at
least not right then. Ian closes his eyes for a moment as though he’s in pain.
When he opens them again, the sheer intensity of his hunger makes me gasp.
Before my courage can fail, I
turn and place my hands against the stone pillar, my legs spread and my
posterior thrust out at a most unladylike angle. His indrawn breath emboldens
me.
I turn, look over my shoulder at
him, and whisper a single word, “Please.”
What I see in his eyes almost,
but not quite, unravels me. I wanted to take the initiative and make it clear
that this is my choice. I can hardly complain about the outcome. Nor as it
turns out do I have any reason to do so. Ian grasps my hip with one hand and
with the other carefully inserts two fingers into me, circling the inner walls
of my vagina until I mewl in need.
He groans with relief. “Sweet
Amelia, so ready!”
A moment later, his fingers
withdraw. He positions himself, clasps both my hips, and in a single thrust
seats himself fully inside me. The shock of being so filled, so suddenly sends
an ecstatic shudder straight from my groin to the pleasure centers of my brain,
which seem in danger of imploding.
I can sense that he is teetering
right on the edge of losing control yet he still manages to hold on. Bending
low over me, his breath brushing the sensitive skin below my ear, he murmurs,
“All right?”
I manage a gurgle that I hope he
will take as agreement.
At once, he almost entirely
pulls out, then thrusts again and again, rapidly building to a pounding rhythm
that shatters my awareness of all else. The water falling over us, the smooth,
hard texture of the pillar under my hands, even the beating of my own heart
dwindle to insignificance.
There is only Ian, his power
claiming my own, our shared hunger, and the precipice of incandescent pleasure
to which he is driving us both.
I reach it almost too quickly, screaming his name as I do.
He joins me a moment later, his body arching over mine, his fingers splaying
over my abdomen, locking me against
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