“Yeah, probably.” Silk blouse, linen skirt—it’d probably be best not to ruin everything by taking an impromptu shower fully clothed. On the other hand, the thought of it is more than a little sexy. That he wants me so bad he can’t even bother to get the clothes off me. “And my purse…” What was I going to say to him about my purse? Oh, right. “There are condoms in my purse.”
He chuckles. “You came prepared.”
I did. Mostly because I almost always carry a condom with me, even though the occasions when I’ve used one have been fairly rare. I can’t help thinking that, somewhere in the back of my mind, I was hoping I’d run into Cain today, and that he’d be the reason I needed that rubber.
“Get it out,” he tells me.
I do, and toss the purse aside, out of the shower where it won’t get wet. He peels my clothes off me—blouse, bra, skirt—taking each item, and my skin tingles with the sensation of being undressed. The muscles in his arms seem to shiver, as if he’s holding himself back at every juncture. Like it’s all he can do not to just grab me, right there, and fuck me silly. It’s a heady feeling.
“Leave the shoes on,” he says after a minute. I look down. My shoes are bright red, strappy sandals with a heel—not too high, but enough to make my legs look good. Naked except for those shoes, I tilt a look up at him and smile.
“You like that, huh?”
He gives me a smirk in return. “Hell, yeah, I like that.”
He turns on the water.
I jump; somehow he’s managed to catch me off guard, even though I knew damn well he was going to do it. The water’s cold at first, then warmer, then hot, then he adjusts the knobs until it’s right on the verge of too warm. By this time, my hair’s wet all around my face, and he’s dripping from more than just sweat.
There’s a little shelf on the wall of the shower, a paper-wrapped bar of soap on it, just like the soaps you’d find in a motel. Cain grabs it and strips the paper wrapper off, leaving the condom on the shelf in its place. He draws a line down the center of my body with the dry soap bar, all the time grinning at me. “I think you could use a wash, dirty girl.”
Gently he pushes one of my shoulders back so the water runs down over my breasts. Then he turns the soap bar flat against my skin. Drags it across my chest, my breasts, down my stomach. Just the touch of him on my skin makes me catch my breath.
You should stop. This is such a bad idea. But the thoughts, relevant as they are, fade quickly as Cain begins to claim every inch of my skin. His hands are slick with soap as he cups my ass, lifts me so my toes barely touch the tile. What’s he going to do? Can he pick me up, fuck me against the wall? Do I want him to?
Of course I do. It’s frightening, dangerous, and just the thought of him being able to pick me up like that, hold me safely with that casual strength, makes me shiver.
So it’s no surprise I damn near come when he actually does it.
The water’s falling hard all around us. I’ve gotten used to the warmth now, and it feels good. He braces my back against the tile and pushes his hips between my thighs, holding me there while his hands move under me, fingers finding my pussy. His cock is hard, hot against my belly. I grab at his shoulders, curl my fingers around the back of his neck to pull him in to kiss him. He seems to be okay with that, kissing me back hard, devouring me. I can taste blood in his mouth—a leftover from the earlier sparring, I’m sure. Why is that such a turn-on?
Honestly I can’t figure out anything about why this man draws me so powerfully. Why do I want him so much? It has to be more than just the promise of his body.
Promise… Safety. Escape. The thought drifts through my head before I can give it much consideration. I’ll think about it later. Right now the only thing I can concentrate on is getting Cain’s cock inside me. As fast as possible.
He seems to have other priorities. He’s kissing me, pulsing his hips between my thighs while his fingers probe into me. They move deep inside, teasing, then slide out to stroke me. He can’t quite reach my clit from this position, so I tip my own hips, trying to rub against his body.
“Hold still,” he says. “Just for a second.”
It’s all I can do to follow the order. I look him straight in the eye, holding myself still. I can feel the tile squares imprinting themselves on my back. Decoration to remember this by, though it’ll fade, of course.
“Lean forward, baby.”
I do it. I’m rewarded by a grunt from the back of his throat, and then the sudden sensation of his cock sliding inside me.
Holy shit.