Page 38 of Unwrapping His Naughty Secret

“I’m sorry,” I gasp.

He takes my hand in his, sudsy bubbles transferring. “It’s okay, baby. Get me clean.”

I feel faint as he guides my hand to griphis cock. It’s so firm, with a real weight to it, and it feels alive.

Duh. Obviously.

But like…itmoves.

That’s what it will feel like inside me. Alive and moving and heavy.

Shivering, I slide my wet hand down to the base of him, where thick dark curls have been trimmed short.

And then below his cock, I mimic how he touched himself, curling my fingers around his balls.

He groans and backs me up against the cool tile.

“Come here,” he grinds out as he tips my head back, and then we’re kissing deeply, a little less uncoordinated than our other kisses. More desperate.

I lift my leg, curling it around his thigh, and he scoops his hands under my ass, lifting me onto my toes. Our wet bodies fit together perfectly.

So perfectly, nothing feels more natural than pulling the head of his cock to myentrance.

“Not here, Cara,” he rasps.

I roll my hips, aching for more of the steady, delicious pressure. “Why not?”

“Because…” He exhales roughly and flexes his thighs. Not pushing into me, but not pulling away, either. “Because I don’t want to swallow your cries. I want to take my time, stretch you out on my bed, and I want to see your face. Hear your sounds. Because I want this so fucking much, and I don’t want to rush to it.” He takes another quick breath. “And because it’s been a long time and just being pressed up against you is enough to make me come again.”

“So?” That sounds amazing. I want to make him come right now. I rub us together again just to see what happens.

“So I’d like to last more than a…” He groans and clutches me tighter against him. “More than a hot fucking second.”

“But if this second is really fucking hot,” I tease. “Then maybe it’s worth it?”

“Oh fuck.” He’s panting now, his gaze blown out with lust. “You want to makeDaddy come like this? Just teasing me? Don’t even have the tip inside you?”

“Yes. Yes!” I jerk my hips faster, rocking him against my slick entrance. “Make a mess on me.”

“If you make me spill all over your little pussy, I’m going to have to get on my knees and lick you clean.”

“You say that like a threat,” I gasp, my clit literally pulsing at the notion. “But it really feels like a promise.”

He doesn’t reply to that, just moans, and I’ve never felt anything as powerful as reducing this man to simple noises. I hump against his cock faster and faster, until he thrusts against me, his cock shoving up between our bodies, and finds his release, punctuating it with three ragged grunts.

Both of us go silent. His chest heaves. His come-slicked cock slides down my thigh as he pulls away, setting me down on both feet. His gaze is hot and primal, raw and unguarded, and he doesn’t break eye contact as he drops to his knees.

“You ever get yourself off in the shower, sweet girl?”

I shiver despite the hot steam and nod. “With the shower head.”

“What do you think about?” He lifts my thigh, hooking it over his shoulder the same way I hooked it around his leg when we were both standing.

I close my eyes and remember. “I imagined a man I thought I would never meet in real life. I imagined his fingers on me.”

Hunter’s thumb grazes my aching, sensitive flesh.

My heart pounds.

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