Nearby was a bar of soap and I picked it up, dipping it into the water and lathering up my hands. Still sitting between his spread thighs, I smoothed the soap over his chest and shoulders. I washed him carefully, trying to avoid his bandage but realizing it was already wet. I couldn’t bring myself to worry because there was no room in my body for those kinds of thoughts right now. I was so stuffed with desire and yearning that I could barely breathe, let alone think.
My hand slid lower, over the cut ridges of his abdominals and across the narrow side of his waist. When my hand met the top of his manhood, I raised my eyes, almost as if asking for permission to go farther.
In response, his eyes slid shut and his hips tilted upward. I took my slick hand and ran down to the base of his penis. I squeezed gently around the base, marveling at the thickness and strength of his erection. I shivered lightly when I imagined what it would feel like to have something so stiff in the center of my body.
Using one hand, I began to stroke him with slow up and down movements as my other hand found the underside of his sack, which was now tight and closer to his body.
I worked them simultaneously, trying to give him as much pleasure as I knew how.
God, he was so beautiful. His body was wide and smooth, his waist tapered into slim hips, and that V between his hips and scrotum was pretty much the sexiest indent I had ever seen. The tattoos that covered his body were mostly black and abstract designs, and they stretched over the firmness of his muscles, making his entire body look like the perfect canvas for such art.
Even though he wasn’t touching me, even though his fingers didn’t tease my core, I felt my body urging higher and higher, like an orgasm was near. Just looking at him, just letting my hands roam over him, was enough to bring me to the peak of pleasure.
His hand came down to still mine, and he lifted his head and stared at me with a drunk look across his features. “My turn,” he murmured, his voice sounding like he ate a bucket of gravel.
The next thing I knew, he was sliding his soapy hands over every single inch of my body. He paid more attention to some areas than others, but I wasn’t about to complain.
The desire and need he withdrew from me was so thick that it coated the insides of my thighs so fully that not even the water in the bath could wash it away.
When he was satisfied I was clean, he drew me close, spinning me in the circle of his body and draping my back against his chest. With the back of my head pillowed on his shoulder, both his arms snaked around to my front and delved down below the water and into my folds.
Unabashedly, I spread my legs, propping my feet up on either side of the tub. I was too far gone for modesty. I was too far gone to act like this wasn’t practically heaven on Earth.
Every time he touched the ultra-sensitive, ultra-swollen and wet clit, my body jerked. I couldn’t control it. It was like he found a secret button that caused my body to act involuntarily to his will.
“You want to come, don’t you?” he whispered in my ear.
God, yes, I did.
But I also liked the sweet torture of that bliss being just out of reach.
“You can come now, Taylor,” he murmured. “Because when you’re done, I will just make you come again.”
I moaned as two of his fingers slid deep inside me and his thumb started rubbing against my clit.
My body arched up and away from his as I momentarily went deaf and blind. I felt myself moaning and calling out his name, but I didn’t hear. I didn’t see the light-colored walls or any of my surroundings.
All I could do was ride the wave of pleasure that completely took over my body.
It went on and on and on. Just when I thought I was going to stop falling, he would move his fingers again and a renewed wave of bliss would shake my body.
Finally, my body seemed to come back to life and I collapsed against him in a trembling heap. Brody tried to withdrawal his fingers, but I squeezed my thighs closed. I wasn’t ready for him to leave me yet. I wasn’t ready for my insides to be empty.
I lay there trying to catch my breath as he chuckled and pressed a soft kiss against the side of my temple.
The stiff, unyielding flesh at my back poked into me, demanding equal treatment. I wanted to give him the same kind of ethereal pleasure he gave to me so I let him pull away and I sat up, swaying a little as I tried to support my own weight.
I reached for him, but he stood abruptly, pulling a white towel off the nearby rack and crudely drying off before wrapping it around his waist. I gave him a hard, unhappy glare, and he smiled a slow, wolfishly charming smile.
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet,” he said. “But I want you beneath me.”
I climbed out of the tub with wobbly knees as he wrapped a towel around me. He pulled me close and kissed me, wrapping himself around me and walking until we were in the bedroom and the backs of my legs came up against the mattress.