Dirty Scoundrel(35)

"When it comes to you? Very much so." He watches me undress with hungry  eyes, his grin growing wider. "Can't wait to get my mouth on that sweet  pussy again."

His words make me blush. "Well, maybe I want to get my mouth on you."

"Gonna be hard to do if I'm fully dressed," he teases.

"Oooh, a challenge." I grab at the front of his shirt and tug.

It's like a dare. For the next few moments, both of us rip at his  clothing, determined to get him naked as quickly as possible. His jeans  pool at his legs, and then he nearly rolls off the bed trying to wrestle  his boots off. My giggles only make him move faster, and then it seems  he's about to fling himself over the side when suddenly, one boot goes  flying free, then the other.

He grins at me, fully naked, and smacks my rump with the flat of his hand. "Why are you not in the shower already?"

"I was waiting for a slowpoke," I tell him, climbing off the oversized hotel bed.

"I'll give you a slow poke," he mock-growls.

"Oooh, a threat," I say in my sassiest voice, and swing my hips with a  little extra oomph as I head toward the lush bathroom. The shower's like  something out of a dream, with multiple heads and the prettiest tile  I've ever seen caged in by glass. I love using it, because it makes me  feel like a princess.

Tonight, though, I want to wash my man.

I turn on the water, running a hand under the spray until the  temperature is just right. Then, instead of stepping in, I gesture that  Clay should go first. "I'm going to rub that dirt off of you."

"I like the sound of this." He steps in and I can't help but pause to  admire the gorgeousness of his form as he lifts his hands and drags his  fingers through his short hair. I love how big his shoulders are, how  broad and tanned by the sun. But funnily enough, I think I love his  white butt even more. Even though there's a crazy tan line, his ass is  tight and firm and high, and it just makes me want to bite it so badly  every time I see it.         

     



 

Never thought I'd be the type to daydream about getting my teeth on a man's buns, but I guess I am.

I grab a bottle of the travel-sized shower gel and squirt a palmful on  my hand. "I'm sure it'll be more effective if I use a washcloth, but  what's the fun in that?"

"No fun at all," he says, and his voice has dropped to a lower, huskier note that makes me shiver all over.

I press my soapy hand to his chest and then begin to slowly rub as he  stands in the shower spray, blocking it from hitting me. There's a ton  of soap in one spot, so I use both hands in small circles to spread the  wealth. Plus, it gives me a chance to touch him. I glide my fingers over  his pectorals, making sudsy whorls in his chest hair and dragging  deliberately over his nipples. I go further down, soaping up his  abdomen, and I love how rock-hard the muscles are here, and how defined  his obliques are. "You have the most incredible body," I tell him  softly. "Every time I see it, I just want to touch you."

"Funny, I feel that way about you," he tells me, sliding a wet hand up  and down my arm and then cupping one of my breasts. "Love how pretty and  sexy you are, Nat. You're so perfect, so soft. I wanna push you down on  the floor here and get my mouth on your pussy-"

"Not yet," I tell him, gasping at his intense words. "I get to wash you first, remember?"

He makes an impatient sound in his throat. "Then hurry so I can touch you."

Hurry? That just makes me want to take even more time. I deliberately go  slower, tracing over every muscle and outlining it before moving on. I  get to his tan line. Lower would mean I get to touch his straining cock .  . . and then I'm pretty sure things would escalate pretty fast from  there. I change routes, instead, moving to his arms and soaping them up.

Clay groans. "Tease."

He's right. I love teasing him. I love being playful with him. I feel  like I've had to be so serious, so focused for so long that there's been  no time for play. With him, I can be as silly and light and carefree as  I want to be.

And I'm definitely feeling frisky at the moment. I lightly drag my nails  down his arm, then slide down to my knees and begin to soap up one big  thigh. He makes a sound in his throat that sounds pained, and his hand  goes to my hair, knotting his fingers in it as if he wants to hold me in  place. Oh yes. I might be a tease, but he enjoys it just as much as I  do.

I'm getting wet with my own excitement at touching him. I can feel the  slick heat between my legs growing, and I shift back and forth,  squirming in place as I run my hands up and down his strong thigh.  "Think you're clean yet?"

"I can think of one spot you haven't hit yet." His hand tightens in my hair, and I get even wetter.

But I want more than that. "Show me," I tell him, breathless. I know  exactly what he's referring to, but I want him to drag me there, just  because the mental image of him doing that makes me crazy with need.

So he does. He uses the hand buried in my hair to steer me ever closer  to his cock, until my mouth's practically brushing against the head of  it. It's flushed with the blood racing through his arousal, and the head  is tipped with several droplets of pre-cum. I stick my tongue out and  catch the first drop on the tip of it.

The breath hisses from his lungs. "Take me in your mouth, baby."

Oh, I planned on it. I continue to just use the tip of my tongue,  though, dragging it over the head of his cock in tiny little circles.

"Fuck, I love your mouth," he tells me between panting breaths. "Only thing I love more than your tongue are your lips."

I swallow back my giggle. "Is that a hint?"

"You can do what you like with me and you know that," Clay murmurs. "I'm at your mercy."

The thought gives me a giddy rush of power. Here, on my knees, I'm the  one in charge of this man and his pleasure. I can do what I want with  him . . . Lucky for him, I want to drive him crazy with lust.

But first, I want to play a bit more. I lean in and give the head of his  cock a smacking, puckered, girlish kiss. "There. All done."

His groan of frustration is like sweet music, and I can't help the laughter that erupts from me.

"You're the cruelest woman to ever touch me."

"I'm the only woman to ever touch you."

"That, too. Still the cruelest."

But I feel a fierce sense of possessive pleasure in the realization that  he's all mine. No matter what happened between us in the past, he  didn't move on. He waited for me. Maybe we're meant to be together after  all, and this won't be just a quick thing between us. We have a  history, him and I.         

     



 

I slide a hand underneath his cock and cup his sac. I haven't had much  of an opportunity to play with this part of him, and I have to admit,  it's pretty foreign to me. I'm not exactly sure how to work it, so I  decide to go the safe route and caress it while I work his cock with my  mouth.

"Look at you," he grits out, as if it's difficult to speak. "So pretty  with my cock in your mouth. Love seein' that." A low groan escapes him.  "God, you're good at this. A fuckin' natural."

Excited by how turned on he is, I work even harder, rubbing and  caressing his sac as I suck on his cock. I take him as far into my  throat as I can, using my other hand to guide him as I drag his length  back and forth over my tongue. He shifts his weight forward, almost  thrusting into my mouth, and his hand grows tight on my hair once more.

"No," he murmurs after a moment. "I want to be inside you when I come. Stand up, baby."

I release him with one last sad lick, then get to my feet. He cups my  face and pulls me close in a fierce kiss, then cups my ass with his  hands, squeezing tight. "Wait here. I'll get the condom."

"Should I think about getting on the pill?"

"Nah," he says. "Won't do any good. Wait here."

Weirdly enough, my feelings are hurt. The pill won't do any good? Is  that because it takes a month to kick in? And . . . we'll be done by  then? Pain stabs through me at the thought. I don't want to be done. I  don't ever want Clay to leave me again. I don't know how I'm going to  cope-

Stop it, I tell myself, closing my eyes and leaning into the shower  spray. You promised yourself you'd live in the moment, remember? You  weren't going to worry about tomorrow.

Easier said than done, of course.

But then Clay returns, condom on, and gives me another fierce kiss, and  I'm swept up in the passion of the moment. He wants me. I can feel the  hard length of him pushing against my stomach as we kiss. There's no  question he wants me. Maybe the attraction can grow into something  deeper again.

If not, then I'll deal with that when that day gets here. Until then, I  know what I've bought into. It's a contract, nothing more, and I can  enjoy it just as much as him.

I wrap my arms around his neck and return his kiss with a fierce  intensity of my own. He grips my hips, holding me tight against him.  "Turn around," he whispers after a moment. "Put your hands on the wall  and present that pretty ass to me."