Page 7 of Love Without Demands

“Shit. Yes,” he groaned, speeding up the pumping of his hips.

“Tell me how much you love stretching my pussy with that big dick of yours.”

His eyes closed, and his jaw clenched hard. “You know I do,” he panted out.

“Dwight, can you…”

“Yeah, baby. I can come for you.”

Not what I was going to say, but the familiar jerk of his man stick—er, cock—inside me told me he’d found his release. I inwardly sighed as Dwight slowed his movements and eventually stopped.

With a grunt, he rolled off me and flopped onto his back with one arm flung over his dark-blue eyes. “Wow, babe. That was awesome.”

Was it, Dwight? Really? For everyone involved in the proceedings?

Then he turned his handsome face toward me with that sweet smile of his and said softly, “I love you so much, Lehra.”

My heart melted. “I love you too, Dwight.”

After tossing the condom in the trash, he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against him. I rested my cheek on his chest, and his heart tha-thumped rapidly against my ear, gradually slowing as his hand on my waist fell away and plunked softly onto the bed.

With a quiet kiss against his chest, I extricated myself from his hold and slipped from the bed and into his en suite. While the shower warmed, I pulled my curls on top of my head with one of the alligator clips Dwight kept here for me and stepped inside the glassed-in space.

After wetting myself beneath the slanted spray, my eyes fell on my very best friend: the Seventh Heaven Attachment Head. And yes, you heard those capital letters correctly. And no, that’s not the actual name of it, though it damn well should be.

The Seventh Heaven Attachment Head—or SHAH for short—was smart enough to remove heavy metals, chlorine, and any other contaminants from the water, leaving your hair and skin glowing, but that wasn’t the best thing about it. My absolute favorite feature was dial setting number three—and yes, I whispered that reverently in my head.

With two simple twists of my wrist, the Holy Grail of showers was in my hand. I had no doubt in my mind that setting three had been developed by a woman. Perhaps by a woman whose boyfriend called his penis alove snozzleand couldn’t quite seem to master the precise amount of pressure her clitoris needed to orgasm.

The central stream of water on this setting was round, less than an inch in diameter, and powerful without being harsh. Approximately a million needle-thin jets surrounded it in concentric circles and were somehow the most gentle streams of water I’d ever experienced. They delivered soft caresses against needy flesh, and the combination was absolutely phenomenal.

“Come to mama,” I whispered, and in my brain, SHAH whispered back, “You’re the one that’s going to be coming, baby.”

One of my fantasies—and there were many—took shape in my mind. A large beast of a man stood before me, a brawny version of Johnny Depp. His skin was darkened by years at sea, and he was finally home to see the woman he’d left behind but had never forgotten.

And the big pirate couldn’t wait one more second to plunder that woman—which is me, if that wasn’t obvious.

“Turn around,” he grunted.

I did, of course, and he immediately raised my simple tunic to find me wearing no undergarments. I was going formedieval era slutvibes in my fantasy, and I seemed to have hit the mark because in the next moment, I was being bent in half and entered from behind.

Bringing the silver head of the shower head between my legs, I bit back a groan of pure rapture when the center found its target. “God yes,” I whispered. My hand found the slightly transparent wall as the fantasy continued in my head.

My pirate plundered me like it was the last time he’d ever fuck. He was hard. Rough. A goddamn beast in leather as he railed me.

The streams of water between my legs hit me in all the right places and then trickled down my thighs as my orgasm approached. It never took long with SHAH.

One hand tightened on my hip and the other fisted in my hair as the fucking turned almost brutal. I welcomed it. No, I reveled in it.

As his hips slapped against my ass, the pirate leaned over my back and whispered rough, guttural words in my ear. In contrast to the ferocity with which he took me, his utterances were sweet and possessive.

He’d missed me. He loved me. I washis woman.

With the softest of cries, I came, my fingers curling against the shower wall. “Holy fuck,” I mumbled, my breaths leaving my gaping mouth in brisk pants as I pressed my forehead against the damp coolness.

I jiggled SHAH a little, extending the orgasm as long as I could as warm fingers of water stroked my swollen flesh. When I was finally done, I thanked the shower head for her service and replaced her back in the holder.

My eyes roamed around the luxurious shower space, but there was no pirate in there with me. For some reason, it always surprised me because these little scenes came to life so vividly while they were going on.

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