Page 59 of Choosing the right Man

His legs are long and hard; his muscles flexing as he steps beneath the shower spray, immediately pulling me to him. His glorious arousal pushes against me, and I’m instantly ready for him to take me.

The steam surrounds us, and I respond to him as he presses against me, my nipples aching, my core swelling. It doesn’t take more than a look from him, and I’m ready. I know the pleasure only he can give me, and I want to make him feel the same. He grabs the soap bottle and suds drip from his fingers.

He turns me around, lifts my hands and places them on the wall. “Don’t move your hands,” he says before licking my ear as his hands smooth over my stomach.

I shake as he moves up and massages my breasts, kneading them into aching masses. He pours soap down my back and touches every inch of my skin. I can barely stand. I begin to twist, and he stops, pressing against me.

“I told you to stay,” he growls. I groan.

When he’s sure I won’t move, he continues running his hands over my back, down the curve of my butt and between my spread legs. He pushes at my feet, spreading my thighs open.

He circles his fingers around my swollen core, massaging the throbbing area as he strokes his slick fingers over it again andagain. I want to turn, want him to lift me, to stop the torture, to make me his.

But he takes his time, moving down each of my legs as he kneels behind me. Water rinses away the soap, and he replaces his hands with his mouth, his teeth scraping over my skin. He licks down the crack of my butt and then pushes on my back, bending me, bringing my sex closer to him. His mouth moves over my folds as he licks and sucks until I’m begging for release.

Finally he stands behind me, lifting one hand to trap both of mine against the wall. He grips my hip with his other, and I scream as he pushes inside me a force that makes my breath rush out. I want more.

He moves in and out of me in a slow rhythm that’s bound to drive me mad. But soon he loses control and releases my hands so he can hold on to both hips as he begins thrusting harder and faster. He groans his pleasure and the sound reverberates straight through me.

I cry out as an orgasm overtakes me, making every inch of my body ache. He hollers my name as I feel him pumping within me. We connect for several satisfying moments before he pulls out and turns me around, immediately taking me into his arms.

I lean against him with water cascading over us. We remain this way for a long time. Though I don’t want it to end, he finally lets me go. We clean up, taking our time drying each other off.

This leads to one more round of sweet lovemaking. Our day doesn’t start until close to noon. I wish every day could be like this. I wish the real world didn’t have to intrude on this magic we share.

By the time we reach the kitchen, I’m desperate for a cup of coffee. One need has been met in an utterly satisfying way. Now it’s time for fuel. I once heard that making love burns more calories than running. I’m certainly hungrier, so this might be true.

We sit in the kitchen in comfortable silence as he reads the paper and sips on coffee. It’s peaceful and domestic and I don’t allow myself to think about it too much, or my perfectly filled balloon is bound to pop.

“I’m taking you out tonight.” He makes me look up.

“Taking me out? Where?” I ask. The balloon hasn’t exactly popped, but a little of the air has been let out.

“On a date,” he says. There’s defiance and a lot of confidence in his voice.

“Mason, we don’t do that.” I try to choose my words carefully. “There will be consequences.” He’s a very well-known businessman and I’m... well, I’m technically still with another man. I don’t need Paul to find out about Mason through a tabloid picture.

“I told you I want to change the rules,” he states. He looks back at his paper as if the conversation is over.

I get up and refill my coffee. This isn’t a discussion I can have with him without at least two cups of coffee. I take my time, then return to the table.

“Look, you’ve told me multiple times you don’t do relationships. I have no idea why you think it’s so important to change things now. I love how we are; let’s not risk it.”

He sets the paper down, not even trying to pretend he’s still reading it. His gaze bores into mine as he forms a response. I wait.

“I might have said that in the beginning, but I haven’t been with anyone but you since we began this, Chloe. More importantly I haven’t had any desire to be with anyone else. Doesn’t this tell you the rules have changed?”

I’m stunned by his words. I’ve never ask him if he has other lovers. I haven’t wanted to know. I don’t feel I have the right to get jealous or to try to stop him.

But I want to. I want to be with him. I’m scared, though. What if it doesn’t work out? What if we leave a trail of pain in our wake as we fly off into the sunset together? Can we survive that? Can we live with ourselves?

“I’m scared,” I admit.

The fire immediately drains from his eyes. He moves over to me, kneeling in front of me. The gesture isn’t submissive. That isn’t who he is. But it’s a move to show me we’re on equal footing, that he’s willing to bend for me. He needs to know if I’m willing to do the same for him.

“I can’t tell you to not be afraid,” he begins. “I can’t tell you everything will work out in the end. I’ve never been in this place before. I’ve never tried a relationship. All I can tell you is I want to take a leap with you. Will you trust me enough to keep you from falling?”

My heart pounds as I gaze at him, as the answer forms in my mind. He’s being vulnerable, giving me more of himself than he’s given before. I can either give him the same... or I can walk away.

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