Page 66 of Why Not Us?

She doesn’t look up at me, her cheeks flaming. I tilt her chin up. “Say the word, princess. You can use whichever one you’re most comfortable with. Cock, dick, penis. It’s just a word. You’re standing here, ready to touch it. You can say it.”

She swallows. “Do you use soap on your dick?”

“Yes, Adalie. I do. And you can as well.”

She rubs the soap between her hands then wraps them both around my shaft. This time, I can’t contain the groan, tipping my head to lean it on the shower wall as she strokes me. I hold her hips gently, wanting to feel her skin.

“Will it hurt you to not… come?”

“No,” I say. “But if you keep that up much longer, it won’t be an issue, anyway.”

“Do you want me to keep going?” she asks, her voice soft.

I crack my eyes open to look at her, so beautiful with the water dripping off the ends of her hair and rolling down her pale skin. “It’s up to you, princess. But if you get me off, I will be returning the favour.”

She strokes me a few more times, her fingers light and slippery with water and soap.

“I’ve never been really good at this,” she says.

“Trust me, princess. You’re doing just fine.”

“You’ll let me know if you want me to do something different?”

Immediately, I understand.

“You want me to give you direction?” I ask, leaning forward to press a kiss to her waiting lips.

“Yes,” she says.

“I want you to tighten your grip a little. My cock isn’t going to break.” I groan again as she does what I’ve asked. “That’s right. Now faster.” My fingers dig into her hips, not because I want to pull her closer. I just want to be holding her when I come and after all the touching, I’m so close. With the directions I’ve given her, Adalie brings me to the brink in only a minute. “Harder,” I tell her as my dick swells in those soft hands. She tightens her grip again and the pressure bursts as my orgasm rushes through me, covering her belly and thighs in hot, sticky cum.

“Good thing we’re in the shower,” she says.

I laugh and pull her against me, her hands leaving my cock to wrap around my neck.

“I don’t think I’ve ever come so fast,” I tell her.

“I’ve always been an overachiever.”

I laugh again, kissing her. I spin us so her back is pressed against the wall now.

“Put one leg up here on the edge of the tub,” I say. “Spread that pussy open for me, princess.”

She does as I’ve asked, and I slide a hand down her body to touch her clit. She gasps and her hips jerk toward me.

“You like to have your clit played with, don’t you?” I ask.

“Yes.” She whimpers as I circle the small bundle of nerves at her core. I’d paid very close attention to her sounds last night, listening to what she was telling me without using her words. Over the course of the night, I learned those whimpers mean she wants more of what I’m doing. When she groans, it’s because I’ve changed to something she doesn’t like. And when she screams, it’s because I’ve made her come. Again.

For someone who hadn’t ever been able to come with a man before, I’ve counted six over the last several hours. I guess I’m also an overachiever.

I rub her clit gently but fast in a motion I’d used to make her come last night and it works again this morning. She’s panting and making those cute little noises. I want to kiss her, but I also want to hear her. In the same amount of time as she took to get me off, she’s already moaning, her head thrown back as her nails dig into my shoulders.

“Nate, yes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Then she screams. Her orgasm pulses against my fingers, and I capture her lips. She clings to me as my fingers slow. Eventually, I turn her again so her back is pressed against my chest and I wash her hair. She doesn’t move, doesn’t try to help me other than to point out what product to use first and second. When we turn off the water, she points to a third and I massage the leave-in conditioner through her hair before wrapping us each in a towel and guiding her to her bedroom. I put her silky robe on her, the fabric slippery in my hands, then pull my underwear and pants on before seating her at her makeup desk in the corner.

When I pick up her hairbrush, she laughs before closing her eyes as I begin to brush her hair, a small smile on her lips.

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