Ben splayed against the back of the shower, his eyes closed as I lathered him up, spreading my fingers through the slick hair, exploring the length of his quickly growing penis and accompanying scenery. He groaned as I found a tempo that pleased him, his hips making little thrusts, sending his slippery length through my hands.
“This is so much better than you doing it,” I said, water cascading down me. I watched him move in my grasp, gently rubbing the underside, as I understood men liked. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since you let me see you the first time.”
Ben said something in another language, then gave a little head shake and returned to English. “That’s an understatement. You said you’re double-jointed?”
“Yes.” I was fascinated by the feel and sight of his arousal, wanting to touch it in all sorts of ways, wanting to stroke and lick and kiss all the rest of him, too. Confined in a small space as we were, however, I would have to content myself with just indulging in some tactile pleasure.
“Good. Put your arms around my shoulders.”
“Huh?” I looked up. “You don’t want me to give you a soapy hand job?”
“Oh, I do, but I think if we’re fast, there’s time for more.”
“More? You don’t mean—”
He bent slightly, grasping me around the waist and hoisting me up. “Legs around mine,” he said, slipping his hands down to my butt to pull me up a little higher before pressing me against the wall.
“Sun and stars, Ben! You don’t mean—hoo!” He lunged forward, his penis sliding along my private parts. “In the shower? Standing? Oh, you missed, just a smidgen to the left. Merciful goddess, I didn’t know we could do this. Am I too heavy for you? Am I hurting you? Should I maybe put one leg down to take some of my weight off your back? No, you missed again, a little higher, I think. Oh! No, not quite. Close but no banana.”
“Francesca,” Ben said through what seemed to be gritted teeth as he lunged somewhat wildly now, his aim, given the fact that we were now both soapy and wet, not as good as could be hoped for.
“What?”
“Too much talking, not enough helping me.”
“Oh.” I could help? I released one arm from where I’d been clutching his shoulders. He moved his hips back slightly so I could snake my hand down between us, positioning him where he would be assured success. “Sorry. I’m new to this.”
“Believe me, I’m well aware of that,” he said, groaning again as he sank into my welcoming flesh. “And no, not because you’re doing it wrong. You’re very tight, Francesca. So tight it makes my head spin. No, don’t try to help. Just tilt your hips up slightly . . . Ahhh.”
It was my turn to moan in pleasure as our bodies moved together despite the awkward position and confined space (and my concern that holding me up would give Ben a hernia).
“Dark Ones . . . don’t get . . . hernias . . . ,” he grunted, his voice and breath rasping in my ear as I gave myself up to the pleasure of his warm, wet body sliding against and inside mine. I felt the need in him for more, to take blood from me, to join us together in a way unique to his kind, and for a moment, I thought about just doing it.
His mouth burned on my wet shoulder.
If you want to—I started to say.
To do so would mean we were Joined forever. He turned his head, his jaw tightening as he leashed the almost overwhelming urge to drink from me. I will not force it upon you.
Inner Fran pointed out that there wasn’t any force involved, but I said nothing, just gasped out his name as my climax claimed me.
“That may have been fast, but it will remain in my memories as a high point of my sexual experience,” I said a few minutes later, as Ben let my legs go, his chest heaving against mine, the water, now tepid and heading for cold, pouring over us both. The need for him to feed from me still rode him hot and hard, but he controlled it with a desperation that touched me deeply.
He kissed me. “I think it’s safe to say there will be many others to join that one.” He turned off the water, which was now starting to get uncomfortably cold. “We must get you dressed quickly. I will take you back to your mother’s—”
The shower vibrated with the noise and force of the trailer door banging. I widened my eyes as Ben swore.
“Stay here. I will get her out of the trailer,” he growled.
He opened the door the bare minimum, stalking out of the shower. Stark naked, I couldn’t help notice. Through the thin walls of the shower I could hear Naomi haranguing him. Or at least I assumed she was—she spoke in French, a language I didn’t understand beyond a few tourist phrases.