“You like?”
“Not a bit of it. More like loving it.” Never thought I’d see food as sexy.
She breaks off another bite and, holding my gaze, puts it in her mouth. Then she leans up and circles her tongue around a nipple, lapping up the icing. I shudder. Jaysus. She does the same with the other. Then she rasps her tongue across and sucks it clean, and now I’m fisting my hands at my sides, because fuck, that feels savage good.
She tips another bite into my mouth, and before I can lick it inside, she’s crashing her mouth onto mine, and we’re both devouring that morsel and each other. My lad is now so hard I fear for its life.
She pulls away and licks her lips.
“Claire, you’re ending me.”
She grins. “You like it.”
“Fuck, yeah. How could I not?”
She laughs again. Then she inches down my body, cleaning up the icing she painted across me earlier with her wicked tongue.
She props her head on her hand again, and with her free hand, she unbuttons my jeans and lowers my zipper. She looks up at me and raises a brow. I nod like a feckin’ kid being asked if he wants candy. I think I know what she’s asking, and I’m more than ready for her.
To eliminate any doubt, I lift my hips. She sits up on her knees and yanks my jeans down, taking my butt-huggers with them, while I’m toeing off my trainers. When she gets the jeans to my calves, I help her by kicking them free and then yank off my socks.
She tosses my jeans to the side and changes her position, this time laying her body perpendicular to mine so her head is right by… I glance down. And then thump my head against the pillow and close my eyes briefly. Right by my lad’s head.
I open my eyes again, though, because there’s no fucking way I’m missing another second of this.
She scoops some of the rich cake onto her fingers and smears some on the crown of my cock. It jerks, and I groan. She takes another scoop and slides it into her mouth, her tongue licking up stray crumbs across her lips. Then she places another in my mouth. By now the cake is barely discernible as a slice, but it speaks to how moist the cake is because it’s not just a pile of dry, broken crumbs all over my stomach and the bed.
She takes the last ridge of icing left and paints it down my cock. Then she leans down, and I hold my breath. She catches my gaze, her eyes twinkling, and then at the last second, she switches her trajectory and eats a bite of cake straight off of my stomach. My whole body tenses as her tongue laps up a second bite there.
“Want the last bite?” she asks.
All I can do is nod.
She scoops it up and places it on my mouth, with her lips just a second behind. She closes her lips around mine, and we share the taste of that chocolate cake together, and I’ve never tasted anything better. Angels in heaven, have mercy on me.
The delicious morsel is soon devoured, and my hands are in her hair, holding her head in place as we taste, nip, stroke, and it’s driving me wild.
She breaks away and licks her lips.
Then, Jaysus, she scoots down, licks my stomach clean, and I tense. Sure enough, she strokes that devil of a tongue down my lad, and my hips lift off the bed. I let out a groan.
Then she grips my base and pumps it, holding it up like it’s her own personal, chocolate-covered ice cream cone.
She takes her time cleaning every last bit of icing, and it’s all I can do not to paint the ceiling with my cum, because, yeah, it feels like I’d reach that high. My hands are in tight fists, and every single muscle is tensed.
I glance down. “Clean enough,” I growl. And pull her up by her shoulders.
“You’re still sticky.” She looks as if she’s pouting, and my dick does a little kick of appreciation.
“They make these brilliant things called showers, yeah. My vote is we hop in. Together.” I drag my eyes up and down her body. “Because I’m thinking you’re dirty yourself.”
Her eyes flare with heat. “I think I’m dirty too. And sticky. Down there especially.”
I groan and jump out of the bed, practically running into the adjoining bathroom. It’s a monstrous tiled step-in shower with a glass wall and a large showerhead. Oh, and it must be Christmas, because there’s a separate handheld showerhead.
Footsteps follow me inside, and as I open the door and lean in, her warmth kisses my back, and then her sumptuous body presses against me. Correction. Her naked skin presses against me.
I twist the handle and put my hand under the spray. “How are you liking it, macushla?”
“Hot and hard.”
My dick jumps, and I laugh. “I was meaning the water.”
Her voice is all innocence. “I was talking about the water, big guy.”
She reaches her hand in, and we get the temp just right. I step inside and stand under the spray. She’s not inside yet, and I peek an eye open.
Claire’s grabbing the little bottles off the sink counter. Oh yeah. “Good thinking.”
She steps inside, her eyes flashing with heat, and closes the glass door behind her. I place my hands on her hips and step us around in a half-circle until she’s under the spray. She leans her head back, letting the water soak her hair, and the rivulets of water are running down all of her delicious curves. The water’s doing exactly what I want to do—exploring every inch, caressing her skin.
I smooth my hands up her waist and turn her so her back’s to me and her face is out of the water. I grab the bottle of body wash and squirt some into my hand. “Where are you dirty, macushla?”
She hums and pushes her bum against me. She takes my hand with the body wash and runs it down her smooth belly and into her short curls. I wrap my other arm around her chest and pull her tight against me. Fuck, she feels savage good—all warm, wet skin. I flick her clit and brush my fingers against her folds. “Yeah. I’m thinking this area needs extra attention.”
“If you say so,” she breathes.
With the body wash and her own arousal, she’s slick as a seal, and I flick and rub until I find the right combo of speed and pressure that has her gasping. She splays her hands against the tiles and pushes that round bum of hers into me as I finger fuck her. It’s all I can do not to slip my cock into her, but we haven’t had a conversation yet on no condom, and I’ll be buggered if I’m stopping to ask about tests and birth control.
With my free hand, I grab the handheld showerhead and turn it on. As she’s writhing against me and my hand, I direct the pulsing spray on her pussy, and she cries out.
Her orgasm overtakes her, and she’s milking my fingers. Her knees buckle. I drop the showerhead, letting it bang against the tile, and wrap my arm around her waist, holding her up while I keep fingering her, drawing out her orgasm. Hiking her up against me, I nibble her neck and slowly ease up with my fingers.
“Jesus,” she gasps out.
I give her one last swipe. “I think you’re clean now.”
She spins around, and I steady her. She’s giving myself a savage grin. “Your turn now.”
Chapter 21
Claire