Page 111 of Snap Shot

“Landon.” His name rushes from my throat.

“Play with your clit,” he demands, and I obey, unsticking my hand from the clammy tile to rub the neglected, tender bundle of nerves.

A wince escapes despite me biting down on my lip.

“That's it, baby. Scream it,” Landon pants. “No one can hear you from here.”

I give in and cry out, eyes screwing shut, the knot of pleasure unraveling as my orgasm hits its peak. White blankets my vision for a few seconds before my eyes reopen, hazy and groggy to see Landon rumbling a drawn-out groan, his toes curling and back arching forward away from the counter. Every marvelous muscle tenses as he releases over the floor. I come again at the glorious sight of him coming so hard.

“What a fuckingmess, Indi.”

We catch our breaths through satisfied giggles, riding out the aftermath of the climax. Landon steps in after I shakily get to my feet. He smirks over his shoulder when I peer over mine at his round, pert ass.

“It's super unfair that your ass is nicer than mine.” Each cheek gets a pat and a playful squeeze.

Landon soaps up his chest and shoulders. “I'm a professional, baby. I tone this for a living. But if you're fishing for a compliment, I'll give it to you.” His voice muffles behind his hands as he rubs his face clean. “Your ass is my favorite ass.” His smirk grows.

A giant lump forms in my throat. My thighs clench, seeking friction for the tiny nub of throbbing flesh between them.

Landon turns off the water and leads me to the wall with a gentle push of his outstretched palm on my belly. He bends and removes the dildo from the floor with a cartoonishpop.

“Turn around and lemme hit it from the back.”

Twenty minutes later, I stroll back into the living area swathed in Landon's fluffy, oversized robe, giddy from an orgasmic daze. A stupid smile plasters to my face but drops when I fish out my phone from my gym bag. Messages on the family group chat await.

Mom:Madam, please consider this my formal request for an audience with Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth over the telephone. I have the honour to be, Madam, Your Majesty's humble and obedient servant, Anjali Davé

Dad:Good one, love!

Nik:Yuck.

Esh:HELPPP

One of Landon's arms furls around my waist, his bare torso searing my skin through the Turkish cotton. The opposite set of fingertips brushes the ends of my hair away from my neck, tucking them behind an ear. His lips post a kiss where his fingers trail off.

Warmth bursts in waves through my chest.

“What's going on?”

I sigh. “My parents being dramatic as usual.”

“Yeah?” He repeats the delicate sweep on the other side, continuing those soft, honeyed kisses on my clean skin. “What're they like?”

“Disgustingly in love.” I turn off the screen and place it back on the counter. “And always needing my attention.”

“My folks were never like that.”

My heart frowns at the trace of sadness in his otherwise unbothered expression. “Your parents weren't lovey-dovey, like, ever?”

“I mean, they held hands and kissed or whatever, but it’s hard to tell as a kid.”

I grimace to myself, recalling all the times my folks were so publicly sweet to each other that it could have given me a toothache. Sickening.

“Hard to tell what?”

My body pivots to study him better. I let him keep his hands wherever he wants. One settles on my lower back. The other roams across the crook of my neck and into my hair, scratching my nape with his trim nails. I flatten my palms over his shoulders.

“Whether people are truly in love or not.” Landon locks his gaze on mine. “You're lucky to have a good example.”

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