I feel weak for letting him do this before we’ve resolved anything, but my muscles slowly relax and I don’t say a word. Is it his way of apologizing? It’s not nearly enough, but damn if it isn’t half convincing me. I’ve had far, far worse apologies.
The cloth slips lower, until he’s running it over my hips and my ass. Down the outsides of my thighs and over my calves. He even gets my feet, making me giggle when it tickles, before he slides back up along the insides of my legs. Definitely weak, but I can’t find it in me to care.
When he starts to wash the insides of my thighs, I spread my legs a little without thinking about it. He soaps almost all the way up, but not quite, then stands. “Turn around, babe.”
I swallow. Am I ready for this? We have so much we need to talk about, but would it hurt to just let this happen? One more perfect moment to remember from a trip of confusion and heartache. I should say no, but I turn to face him.
As soon as Gavin comes into view, my eyes eat him up. He’s standing straight, his muscular, decorated body wet and flushed from the steam in the shower. I can’t hide my desire quickly enough, and the corner of his mouth turns up. It’s not the only thing that’s up. His cock is pointing at the ceiling, swaying slightly with his movements. A shiver runs through me when I remember the magic of feeling it inside me. It had to be magic for something that big to fit, right?
“I’m sure you’re still pissed as all hell at me,” he says quietly.
I shake my head. Not in denial, but I don’t want to think about that. Not right now.
He begins to scrub, first my left arm. “I can’t help myself. You drive me crazy, babe.” The rough cloth leaves a soft tingle in its wake as he moves from one arm to the next.
“I’m not your babe,” I whisper.
“You’re naked in my shower with my hands all over your body. I’m just calling it like I see it... babe.”
His hands move to my shoulder blades, rubbing slow, soapy circles along my chest just above my breasts. My nipples respond, hardening into shameless little points. Traitors. When he slides the cloth down between them, he leans in and whispers hotly in my ear. “You make me so fucking hard.” This close, I can smell his musk even over the flowery scent of the soap. It’s heady, making me just a little woozy. He steadies me with his hands. “Do you need to sit down?” At first he sounds concerned, but then he adds while soaping my breasts, almost as an afterthought, “And while you’re down there...”
Good to know some things don’t change. “Are you sure? I have pretty sharp teeth, babe.” I emphasize the last word sarcastically.
He only laughs, crouching to wash my thighs and hips. I’m very conscious of him being face to face with my pussy, but he doesn’t seem to notice, concentrating on my legs. His touch is so soft, sliding smoothly through the sudsy soap that covers me.
Suddenly he leans forward and puts a kiss right on my mound, just above my clit. I squeak and jump, but his hands grip my hips to hold me in place. “Easy, tiger. I think it’s time to rinse.” He grins mischievously when he stands.
Grabbing the showerhead, he detaches it so he can spray me clean. Starting at my shoulders, he works his way down my body, passing the head close to my skin. The temperature is just on the edge of comfort, tingling without burning. He runs it right over my spine, making me gasp as the stream pounds against my lower back. Up and down my legs and over my ass, and then the insides of my thighs, letting it jet over my pussy for just a moment. I draw a sharp breath, but I stand still, waiting.
He moves the head to my front, but stays behind me, reaching around. Starting at my throat, he rinses my chest down towards my breasts, tickling my nipples rock hard with the pressure. I can’t help myself and push back against his naked body.
Gavin’s broad chest is like a wall, and his hardness slides against the small of my back. I wiggle against him, loving the feel of his skin against mine. His free arm goes all the way around below my breasts, clutching me to him while he moves the showerhead lower.
“That’s right,” his gruff voice rumbles next to me. “Rub yourself against me. So soft and sexy.”
Ashamed at being caught out, I try to think of some glib remark, but his hand cups my breast, catching the nipple between his thumb and index finger. When he rolls it, I moan, reply forgotten.
He puts the showerhead right between my legs. The powerful stream rushes against my clit, burning with heat, thrumming against the sensitive nub. I writhe in his grasp, but he holds me tight. So good, but so much at the same time.
Sparks of pleasure arc out from my center, making my skin tingly and hot. Between his solid grip on my breast and the showerhead, he’s got me right where he wants me and he’s merciless. Usually I need to ease into it, but maybe I was just so worked up already, because the steady rush of water sets off a chain reaction.