“I just thought I’d share what you do to me,” I reply playfully, stepping into him and stroking his length. “You make me so wet.” I lick his stubble and hear him moan softly. “Just by being in the same room with me.” My free hand grips his arm as his breath warms the side of my face. I’m sliding up and down, fast then faster, my grip tightening as his hands wrap around my waist. “No man has ever done that to me before.” He groans deeply against me, and I know it’s because of what I’m doing to him and what I’ve just confessed. He loves that he’s the only man who’s ever affected me; the only man who ever will.
His bottom lip is pulled into his mouth, indicating he’s close. It’s his tell; that and when he rakes his hands through his hair, signifying he’s either anxious, nervous, or really fucking pissed. “I love how wet I make you. That * belongs to me.” His breathing hitches in my hair. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
Dropping to my knees, I wrap my lips around him and stroke him with my hand, pumping him into my mouth. He grunts loudly above me, his thighs tensing and his hands holding my head, tangling in my hair. I swallow every ounce of him, moaning against his skin and feeling him twitch. His breathing steadies above me and I glance up, seeing a very-amused grin on his gorgeous face.
“I love you,” I say softly, planting a quick kiss to his cock before I stand up. His arms wrap around me and I immediately shove my face into his neck, claiming my spot.
“Me or my dick?”
I giggle against him and feel his laugh shake my body. “Your dick.” He pulls me away from him, issuing me his don’t fucking push it, Dylan look, and I crack. “You and your dick. I’m mad for both of you. Can’t live without either one of you, actually.”
Reaching up, I grab my shampoo and turn to see his hand held out for me, waiting for me to squirt it into his palm. I do it and grab his body wash, squirting it into my hand before I put it back on the shelf. I wash his body as he washes my hair, my hands roaming freely over his skin. I linger on his shoulders and upper back, giving him a rubdown as his eyes close. He loves this, me touching him this way, pulling and kneading his muscles until they loosen. His tiny moans of gratification make me smile as I move down his body and spread the lather around. He massages my scalp the way he always does, building up the suds with his hands until they begin to trickle down my face. I’m rinsed off quickly, and my body wash is grabbed.
“Hey, use yours,” I demand, trying to snatch it from his grasp but remembering instantly just how quick he is, and how I don’t stand a chance in taking anything from him. We’ve been down that road.
“No. I want you to smell like you.”
I grumble unconvincingly, loving how he prefers the way I smell to anything else, even though I’d be much happier smelling like him. I watch as I’m thoroughly cleaned as only Reese Carroll would do. The man is meticulous about everything, concentrating on covering every inch of my skin in the soapy bubbles. He lingers on my breasts, kneading them for several minutes before he rinses them clean. His marks are on me, permanently branded onto my skin due to his daily freshening-up sessions. I moan softly as he latches onto the left one, pulling the skin into his mouth and planting a soft kiss to it after it’s darkened.
“So, how bad was today?” he asks, licking the mark on my right breast before sucking on it.
I grab his head and hold him against me. “Tolerable.” He narrows his eyes at me, not buying my elusiveness. I sigh, dropping my head down. “I mean, if you really loved me, you wouldn’t want to wait ten more days to make this official. You’d whisk me away to Vegas and make me yours right now.”
He stands up, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Do you need my dick in your mouth again?” I nod quickly and he laughs. “If I could arrange it, I’d have the entire world witness you becoming mine.” He smirks. “Officially.”
“Officially,” I echo, reaching behind me and shutting off the water. For all intents and purposes, we both know I’ve been his since that first wedding, but until his last name becomes mine, it won’t feel real to either one of us.
After securing a towel around his waist and blocking my amazing view, he wraps a towel around me and follows behind me into his bedroom. I don’t bother getting dressed because he prefers me naked in bed; anything I put on my body right now would be ripped off and discarded.
No barriers.
Nothing getting in his way of me.