Page 80 of Swim To Me

Chapter 20

Delilah

Stomach pleasantly full from breakfast, Grey and I spend the next hour or so lounging about the sheets, stretching out like a lion and his lioness out in the hot, desert sun.

Time, thankfully, is on our side. Grey doesn’t start work at the leisure centre until well into the afternoon and my day is gloriously, but still strangely, empty, except for my swimming lessons I’m supposed be attending this evening.

I’ve not made my mind up if I feel well enough to go just yet.

Not that I think Grey will mind either way. One of his hand’s sits on my upper thigh, the flesh of his palm pushing up the lace hem of my silk shorts to make contact with my bare leg. The other holds up a familiar romance book, his thumb and pinkie finger splayed out to keep the pages from closing.

The morning news bulletin plays quietly in the background, but I can’t seem to pull my thoughts away from him, hyper aware of the way we touch.

Enough with the doom scrolling on my social media, I lock my phone and purposefully stroke my fingers along Grey’s forearm until he glances over at me.

My skin feels tight all over; a combination of Grey’s proximity and the filthy words imprinted on the page I’m reading over his shoulder.

“I’m going to go take a shower… want to come with?”

Folding down the top right-hand corner of the page to keep his place, Grey follows me wordlessly into the bathroom. I can feel his stare on me while I turn on the warm water, stepping halfway into the tray to stick my hand beneath the spray and double check the temperature because it’s known to be rather temperamental.

When Grey’s hands land on my hips, fingertips slipping under the elasticated waistband of my sleep shorts, I lean back into his body, feeling the hard lines of his abdomen against my much softer curves.

“This feels right, doesn’t it?” Grey whispers into the shell of my ear, making me shiver. “Tell me I’m not the only one who feels it.”

I sigh, tipping my head back even further to rest on Grey’s collarbone.

This man…

He makes me want to lay my soul open to him.

“You’re not the only one, Grey,” I admit my truth. “I feel it too.”

Calloused fingers slid one thin strap of my top down my shoulder, lips press a sweet kiss to the skin there. Grey repeats the pattern on the other side until the silk material falls away, pooling at my waist, and he can cup my bare breasts.

His stubble grazes my neck, so in contract to the soft tickle of his hair against my temple.

I scrunch my nose up and squirm away when Grey smooths at a particularly ticklish spot under my ribs, but he holds me close, steady, with a loud laugh I want to bottle up.

He glides across the spot again while the bathroom begins to steam up, just to force a giggle out of me, only stopping when I peel his hands away.

Before they begin to wander.

“G-Grey,” I stutter out when he strokes at my inner thighs. I’m so fucking sensitive there it’s unbelievable, practically jelly in Grey’s hands, and he knows it.

“Are you wet for me, gorgeous?”

I tip my hips backwards, grinding into the hard bulge pressing into the small of my back. “Find out for yourself.”

Pulling my shorts to the side, Grey dips one finger and then another into the wet heat between my legs, dragging them, mind numbingly slowly, across my swollen walls.

One, two, three, four…

Purposefully ignoring my tingling clit, I audibly protest when Grey slips his fingers from me, holding them up to the golden sunlight streaming through my bathroom windows. My slickness coats him. We both watch as he pulls his fingers apart, two webbed strands of my desire glistening in the light.

My empty core clenches, watching Grey put those fingers into his mouth, all the way down to his knuckle. Once he’s licked the taste of me off, he releases them with a pop I can hear over the sound of the running water, smearing the wetness from his fingers across the bottom of my lower back when he touches me again to yank my shorts away.

The damp shorts stick to my sodden core, landing in a messy pile on the bathroom floor.

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