"Ah, but are you?"
My thighs pressed together.
"Need a little incentive?" His head dipped over the edge of the bath and his lips latched onto my nipple, followed swiftly by his teeth. I arched my back, rising out of the water so he could breath. Bath foam hung off his nose, coated his beard, and all I could do was moan.
His hand slipped between my thighs and he said, voice rough, against my breast, "Tell me to stop, Tiger."
Tiger. Whether he knew it or not, 'Tiger' was my call to arms. The nickname made me feel brave, capable, in charge of my world and able to do whatever I pleased. And what pleased me was his fingers finding my folds and sweeping up and back down.
"I can't tell if you're wet or not," he groaned.
I spread my legs, giving him more access. His finger dipped inside.
"Ah, there it is. Wet. Fuck." One hard, thick digit thrust deep inside. "That could be my cock."
Another pump. I moaned, my eyes closed, my head rolled back on the edge of the bath. A second finger got added to the first. He slowly pressed them in, and then dragged them back out. I whimpered.
"You want my fingers to fuck you slow or fast?" he asked, his breath tickling the skin around my areola.
"Fast," I breathed, my hands coming up onto the edge of the bath to hold me steady.
His fingers pumped harder, picked up pace, started to thrust into me in a way I could imagine his cock thrusting into me. His teeth and tongue nibbled and licked one breast, while his free hand squeezed and pinched the other. It was almost too much. Too many points of stimulation. I'd started panting, writhing, the water slopping about inside the tub.
The moment stretched, the world outside the bathroom, - hell, outside this bath - forgotten, just his hands, his teeth, his tongue and the image of his cock. Impaling me, pumping me, stretching me. I realised he was scissoring his fingers, his thumb rubbing against my clit on each thrust forward. I felt full, even though I knew if his shaft was inside me this would not compare. But right now, right in this second, as he fucked me with his fingers and loved me with his mouth, it was pure bliss.
"Ryan," I moaned.
"That's it, babe. Show me how beautiful you are."
Oh God. Oh God. I may have said that out loud because Ryan groaned, his fingers pressed harder, stretched me wider, his thumb doing exactly what needed to be done to bring me home.
The water splashed over the sides of the tub, soaking him where he knelt. My head rolled over the unforgiving porcelain of the bath's rim, my body ached, my core clenched, my breaths rasped and heart pounded.
And then he bit me. Hard. Right on the side of my breast. It sent me flying and Ryan deftly caught me, his fingers bringing me back down, his thumb lengthening the exquisite moment, his lips murmuring soft and sexy encouragements against my bruised skin.
When I came back to reality he'd removed his hands and was kneeling back staring at the mark he'd left. I glanced down and winced. He frowned.
"Sorry. You seemed to need a little something to tip you over that edge." He looked contrite, if not a little mesmerised by his teeth marks on my pale skin.
I brushed a finger over the spot, a small smile lifting up the edges of my lips.
"Rough, huh?" I asked. He actually blushed.
"Maybe just a little." He held his thumb and forefinger up about a centimetre apart. "That fucking turned me on," he said, indicating his bite mark with a nod of his head.
"Stand up," I softly ordered, and watched him give me a smirk and rise up on his knees so I could see the bulge in his jeans. It must have been painful, all of that beautiful hardness contained in such a small place.
I pulled myself to the edge of the bath and with dripping wet fingers slowly undid his button, then lowered his zip. His chest rose and fell too quickly, his eyes devoured mine when I looked up. This man turned me on with a heated gaze. Set me free with his kisses and touch. Grounded me with his presence. Made me forget everything else but him, and now, and us.
I'd never thought I could have this again. Not just because finding someone who 'gets you' and falling in love is so damn hard. But because I'm a single mother with a five year old daughter and a haunted past.
But Ryan Pierce had made it all so very easy. He found me. We fell in love. He loves my daughter and wants to be her father. Easy.
My hand slipped into the opened flap of his jeans and in seconds soaked his trunks, the bulge of his erection jerked, and with careful hands I lowered his jeans and underwear down his hips, releasing his proud cock.
"Fuck," he whispered, looking down at my wet, naked form, right before his arousal.
He liked to talk dirty to me, so I licked my lips, watched as his eyes burned with fire, and said, "I'm going to suck you hard and fast." He swallowed. "How deep do you want me to go?"