independence early on and clung to it even when my father peeled it
away from me piece by piece like he was taking my skin off.
I don’t want to think of him now.
He’s had too much of a hold on me for too long. Even after I broke free of him,
I never really was. But now, as Amelia stands gracefully and meets my gaze
again, I see in her eyes the faith that I want so desperately to deserve.
She takes hold of my T-shirt where
it’s tucked into my jeans but waits until I nod permission before easing it off
over my head. Rather than just toss it on the floor, which I certainly would
have done, she takes a few moments to fold it neatly and lay it on a nearby
padded bench.
Impatience stirs in me. She is so
damn beautiful, so warm and giving. But she also knows just how to play me,
damn if she doesn’t.
“Amelia…”
“ Hmmm ?” She shoots me a look
that’s so innocent it drags an unwilling laugh from me.
While I’m still smiling, she tucks
her fingers under the waistband of my jeans, pops the snap, and eases the
zipper down over the bulge of my hard-on. At the soft brush of her hand against
me, every muscle in my body clenches. I’m determined to let her set the pace but
if she could just step it up a little--
Something of my urgency must get
through to her because she slides my jeans and briefs down together in one
smooth tug. As she does, my cock springs free, damn near smacking her in the
face.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “He gets a
little unruly around you.”
Her giggle has to be the sweetest
sound in the universe. On her knees, gazing up at me, she teases. “Oh, come on,
there’s nothing ‘little’ about him.”
As though to confirm what she’s
saying, she stands up again and, holding my eyes, closes her hand around my
cock, squeezing gently. I’m so aroused by her that at once drops of pre-come
ooze from me. She rubs the pad of her thumb over my crest, catching the pearly
liquid on it, then raises it to those pouting lips. Holding my eyes, she licks
her thumb clean.
“Have I ever told you how delicious
you taste?” she asks.
A smart man knows when he’s beaten.
When she takes my hand and gently leads me into the shower, I don’t even try to
resist. Every ounce of strength I still have is going in one direction only--to
make sure that this is good for her.
And that starts by taking just a
little control back.
“Turn around,” I say when we’re
standing under the rush of water that feels like a warm tropical rain.
I know Amelia, I know what she
likes and what she needs. She put that aside last night to make a point to me
and I appreciate it, at least as far as I can given the gnawing burden of my
doubts and fears. But now I want to make that up to her.
I cover her hands with mine,
feeling the delicacy of her bones as I do, and lift her arms, pressing her
palms to the slick marble wall of the shower. Against her ear, breathing in her
scent, I murmur, “Spread your legs wider.”
Her breath catches as she obeys.
“I’m going to take my time,” I say.
“Partly to prove to myself that I can but also because I want to draw out your
pleasure. I want to make you yearn.”
There’s more to it than that. I
want to make her feel at least some of the desperation and longing that are
tearing me apart but I’m not about to say so.
A soft whimper escapes her. “I am,
Ian…yearning. I need you so much.”
“Tell me what you need, baby,” I
croon. “What you want?”
“You,” she answers at once. “Inside
me, completing me.”
I have to close my eyes for a
moment against the hot, sweet bolt of emotion that rips through me. Lust, yeah,
right off the charts, but something more, deeper, more tender, a fierce need to
both protect and possess her.
Her trust in me, her desire for me…
She thinks that I complete her? I could tell her volumes about how she puts me
back together but her delectable bottom is wiggling against my cock. If I’m not
going to forget my resolution and fuck her here
away from me piece by piece like he was taking my skin off.
I don’t want to think of him now.
He’s had too much of a hold on me for too long. Even after I broke free of him,
I never really was. But now, as Amelia stands gracefully and meets my gaze
again, I see in her eyes the faith that I want so desperately to deserve.
She takes hold of my T-shirt where
it’s tucked into my jeans but waits until I nod permission before easing it off
over my head. Rather than just toss it on the floor, which I certainly would
have done, she takes a few moments to fold it neatly and lay it on a nearby
padded bench.
Impatience stirs in me. She is so
damn beautiful, so warm and giving. But she also knows just how to play me,
damn if she doesn’t.
“Amelia…”
“ Hmmm ?” She shoots me a look
that’s so innocent it drags an unwilling laugh from me.
While I’m still smiling, she tucks
her fingers under the waistband of my jeans, pops the snap, and eases the
zipper down over the bulge of my hard-on. At the soft brush of her hand against
me, every muscle in my body clenches. I’m determined to let her set the pace but
if she could just step it up a little--
Something of my urgency must get
through to her because she slides my jeans and briefs down together in one
smooth tug. As she does, my cock springs free, damn near smacking her in the
face.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “He gets a
little unruly around you.”
Her giggle has to be the sweetest
sound in the universe. On her knees, gazing up at me, she teases. “Oh, come on,
there’s nothing ‘little’ about him.”
As though to confirm what she’s
saying, she stands up again and, holding my eyes, closes her hand around my
cock, squeezing gently. I’m so aroused by her that at once drops of pre-come
ooze from me. She rubs the pad of her thumb over my crest, catching the pearly
liquid on it, then raises it to those pouting lips. Holding my eyes, she licks
her thumb clean.
“Have I ever told you how delicious
you taste?” she asks.
A smart man knows when he’s beaten.
When she takes my hand and gently leads me into the shower, I don’t even try to
resist. Every ounce of strength I still have is going in one direction only--to
make sure that this is good for her.
And that starts by taking just a
little control back.
“Turn around,” I say when we’re
standing under the rush of water that feels like a warm tropical rain.
I know Amelia, I know what she
likes and what she needs. She put that aside last night to make a point to me
and I appreciate it, at least as far as I can given the gnawing burden of my
doubts and fears. But now I want to make that up to her.
I cover her hands with mine,
feeling the delicacy of her bones as I do, and lift her arms, pressing her
palms to the slick marble wall of the shower. Against her ear, breathing in her
scent, I murmur, “Spread your legs wider.”
Her breath catches as she obeys.
“I’m going to take my time,” I say.
“Partly to prove to myself that I can but also because I want to draw out your
pleasure. I want to make you yearn.”
There’s more to it than that. I
want to make her feel at least some of the desperation and longing that are
tearing me apart but I’m not about to say so.
A soft whimper escapes her. “I am,
Ian…yearning. I need you so much.”
“Tell me what you need, baby,” I
croon. “What you want?”
“You,” she answers at once. “Inside
me, completing me.”
I have to close my eyes for a
moment against the hot, sweet bolt of emotion that rips through me. Lust, yeah,
right off the charts, but something more, deeper, more tender, a fierce need to
both protect and possess her.
Her trust in me, her desire for me…
She thinks that I complete her? I could tell her volumes about how she puts me
back together but her delectable bottom is wiggling against my cock. If I’m not
going to forget my resolution and fuck her here
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