Down and Dirty(46)

“Get in the tub, Cat,” he demanded, closing a hand over his cock and fisting himself as she stood. As desperate as she was to move forward, she couldn’t take her eyes off him, cupping his heavy balls before stroking up the girth of his shaft, milking himself.

“Do you like to watch me?”

She nodded wordlessly.

“Would you like to watch me come like this? I could, so easily. Especially with you looking at me like that. Like the other night. When you were on your back, those gorgeous tits ready, nipples hard.” The chords in his neck stood out and his voice was all grit, his hand moving faster.

She stared down, mesmerized by the bead of moisture that had escaped the head of his cock. She reached out her hand, and he stilled, his breath choppy and uneven. “But not today. Turn off the tub, Cat, and get in. Now.”

The sharp command should have annoyed her. Instead it sent a bolt of lightning through her that settled between her thighs, and she found herself complying without hesitation.

“Don’t forget your knee,” he added, more softly this time. “It’s going to sting, so take it slow.”

Emotion clogged her throat. The lightning, or at least a paler form of it, she’d felt before. The sense of being cared for like that? Never. And damn if she didn’t like the combination.

She slipped into the tub with a sigh, the hot water caressing her toes, ankles, and calves until she sank down, immersing herself. The knee did sting, but the bliss of the water working over her tired muscles was heaven. Shane had given her a workout earlier.

“Slide toward the center so I can get in behind you,” he murmured.

She did and he stepped in to settle behind her, his thighs cradling her hips. The water sloshed to the edge of the tub and over, but she didn’t care. The feel of him, hot and hard against her back, was sublime.

He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her tighter to him, his thick cock branding her back.

“Nice,” she hissed, wishing she was facing him so her good parts lined up with his.

He kissed the top of her head. “It’s about to get even nicer.” He released her to trace a winding path over her rib cage beneath the water, gliding closer to the underside of her breasts with each pass. “Your skin is incredible.”

The tub squeaked as she shifted lower, trying to rush him, hoping to get him to cup her breasts. To pinch her aching nipples. Another slide and his thumb just narrowly missed one. She groaned in frustration as the bead tightened further, pouting for attention. “Touch me, Shane.”

“I am touching you, Mary Catherine. Just not where you want right now.” His voice was hypnotic and she stilled. He was going to do this his way, and the sooner she let him, the sooner he’d put her out of her sweet misery and reward her with a mind-blowing orgasm.

“Fine. Do your worst.”

He tossed his head back and laughed, his chest shaking against her back. “Such a martyr. I’m not trying to torture you like I used to, you know. This is just as hard on me.” He flexed his hips into the small of her back. “Harder, even. But tonight I’m determined to do the things I never got to at the lake.”

His fingertips skimmed over the swells of her breasts and again narrowly missed the stiff tips.

“Drape your legs over mine.”

She did. Her nipples grew impossibly tight, the heat of his gaze from over her shoulder setting her aflame. His hands abandoned her breasts, but before she could miss them, one was cupped over her stomach, the other cradling her pubic bone.

“You had on peach underwear,” he whispered, grinding the heel of his palm in exactly the right spot. “They were just cotton, boy-cut panties but I swear to God, they were sexier on you than any Victoria’s Secret thong I’ve ever seen. The bra matched. Sort of. Except for the tiny green polka dots.”

The hand on her stomach traveled up, covering her breast, and she arched into him.

“I wanted to trace every one of them with the tip of my tongue. Do you know I’ve had a polka dot fetish ever since?” His low laugh held more passion than humor. “You were a fucking dream.”

His words were as seductive as his hands and she tried to twist around in his arms. “I want…you inside me, Shane. Please.”

But he held her still, continuing the delicious torture. “When you stepped into the water and tossed that look at me over your shoulder, all sass and dare, with that sweet ass peeking out the bottom of those underwear, a school of piranha couldn’t have stopped me.”

“P-piranhas only live in the Amazon,” she murmured, not caring that it sounded inane.

“I couldn’t help but wonder what was under there. A thatch of red curls? A sleek strip of rust? Now I know. So neat, and sweet.” She stared down between her thighs, mesmerized by his fingers, sliding over the smattering of strawberry hair and deeper, to part her folds.