Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
After I’m done, I gather all my clothes up and throw them out of the glass shower door. This room might be all I’m historical like the rest of the building, but the bathroom is very modern, down to the large glass shower and the huge square fixture jutting from the wall. Thank goodness it’s one of those side-angled rain showerhead beasts and not one from directly above. In theory, those are okay, but practically, I’ve almost drowned, so I’m a lifetime hater.
But back to the main point.
I’m totally stark naked.
And so is Luca.
He was in a big hurry to get his clothes off five seconds ago, but now that I’ve gotten mine off too, he’s doing his best poor little prairie dog in the middle of a busy road impression.
I’m so worked up from edging myself into a near sexual black hole last night that I have no such compunctions.
I close the shower door, crank the spray to hot—cold showers and I don’t get along even at the sweatiest, hottest of times—and thrust myself under the spray. As soon as it hits my skin, I run my hands down my arms and over my wet breasts, flicking my hard nipples. I pump the soap container on the wall, lathering cherry scented body wash onto my palm. I soap the same places, getting myself good and sudsy and letting it all run down the length of me.
I give Luca a delicious show when I wet my hair, lifting my arms overhead and scrubbing my fingers along my scalp.
“Luca! I’m kind of soaking wet in here,” I say loudly.
He groans. “I can see that, Dulcie.”
And I can see that he very much wants to be in here.
“I’m kind of soaking wet in other ways too. Can you see that?” I tease.
“Good god.” He fish lips me, but still doesn’t move.
“Are you having second thoughts about pounding me into oblivion?” I ask coyly.
“I’m just… trying to gather myself.”
“I don’t want you gathered. I want you hard and hot, wet and feral. You can be a golden retriever on the street, but please be a beast in the sheets. I want you to fuck me the way you fucked my mouth last night, but harder. Hard enough that I feel you for days.”
“In the shower?”
“I agree that it’s slick, so get in here for foreplay, and then we can test the vintage bed’s endurance.”
“And mine,” Luca adds.
“And also mine,” I say in agreement. “Notice I didn’t put a time limit on it. Six seconds of bliss is perfectly fine with me as long as I get to sleep with you draped over me, crushing me into the bed all night long.”
I cup my breast, pinching my nipple, throwing my head under the spray to rinse my hair, and turning up the volume on the moaning.
“If I come in there, there might be carnage,” Luca rasps.
I pump conditioner into my hand and slick it through my hair. “Carnage?”
“Sorry.” He’s already flushed, but the pink darkens to crimson. “That’s the wrong word.”
I rinse out the conditioner, in a hurry to be out of here. “I’m fine with carnage. Carnage is great.” I flick my thumbs out. “It gets two thumbs up from me.”
I’ve been keeping my eyes on Luca’s face, but now, I lower them down. He’s so hard that it’s probably painful.
“If you don’t get in the shower in two point four seconds, I’m coming out there to teach you the real meaning of carnage.”
Once he finally moves, he’s like a hurricane sweeping into the shower. He flings open the door and bangs it closed behind him before he hoists me up by my waist, digging his hands into my ass to wedge me up against the tiled wall. His hard cock slams into my stomach and throbs there, so hot against the water cooling on my skin now that I’m out of the spray. He kisses me brutally, desperately, cupping the back of my head to shelter that part of me from the wall.
I groan against his lips, devouring him and only breaking away when I need oxygen. But I kiss everywhere I can reach, starved for the taste of his skin. I love the salty tang of his neck, his jaw, and his forehead. I’m glad I got to him before the shower did. I like him dirty, sweaty, raw, and masculine.
There, I said it.
I like what I like.
And I refuse to be ashamed of it.
He claims my lips, devouring his taste off my tongue.
“Hurry up and get into the water and do what you need to do,” I encourage, nipping at his mouth.
However, he doesn’t hurry. He does let me slip down so my feet are on the floor again, but he gathers my wrists in his hands, angles them over my head, and pins me to the wall. His lips trail over my jaw and down my neck, his tongue laving the water from my skin. He growls, and I make feral, higher-pitched sounds in response.