Page 57 of Finding the Pieces

“Harder now, Ellie. Just a little,” I say, needing her to build with me because I don’t know how long I’ll last and I want her to come with me.

“Grip your dick at the base, but don’t move your hand,” she says, breathless as she tugs first on one nipple before moving to the other and squeezing her tit hard in her palm. Her eyes are locked on my dick, and it twitches under her lustful stare.

I follow her instructions, all too eager to give her everything she’s asking for. My shaft pulses under my grip.Holy shit.I squeeze harder.

She notices and grins. “Naughty boy, Dom.”

Fuuuuuck, she’s perfect.

“Collar your throat with one hand,” I demand. She does, lifting her gaze, eyes hazy. “Faster, harder circles on your clit, baby. Do it for me now.”

“Oh fuck,” she moans, her head dropping back against the tiled wall, but her eyes stay locked on mine.

“Step closer,” she says. “I want you to make a mess of me.”

My balls tighten, drawing closer to my body. I don’t want this to end, but Ellie isn’t playing fair.

I step closer, only inches between us now. If I let go of my dick, it’d hit her stomach.

“Stroke your cock. Slowly,” she says before she whimpers, her body giving a small jolt as her fingers fly in hard, small circles between her legs, her other hand gripping her own neck.

We stay like that, touching ourselves, inches separating our lust-driven bodies, hot breaths skimming over each other’s skin as we work ourselves into a frenzy.

“Faster,” she pants.

“Harder,” I growl at the same time.

Her mouth drops open on a moan, and I watch as she starts to shake, the first wave of her orgasm sweeping over her. I drop my palm against the tile beside her head, watching with awe as I pump furiously at my dick. I’m close, but I need this more.

I keep stroking my cock with one hand but use the other to grab the handheld showerhead.

“Still trust me?” I ask with a gasp, wanting her to be sure.

“Yes,” she screams, her body convulsing with pleasure.

I turn on the attachment and place the stream of water on her clit.

Her eyes shoot open in shock, and a satisfied grin overtakes my face.

“Fuck, oh my god. Fuck, Dom, oh my…” Ellie’s moans don’t stop. Her hand that was circling her clit grips my bicep tightly as I keep the water pressure exactly where she needs it. Her hips are thrusting and circling wildly, riding out her pleasure, and it’s fucking beautiful to watch. In seconds, I’m coming too. I paint her stomach with my cum and watch her close her eyes and smile, same as I do.

We’re both panting, breathless and blissed out. I lean my forearms against the tile on either side of her head, breathing into her neck, our bodies separated until she places her hands on my lower back and leans her head against my collarbone. Unable to live with the distance a moment longer, I put the showerhead back on its hook and pull her body flush with mine. It takes a few minutes before we both come down from the high.

She looks content, and I relax against her.

We both needed that. I know sex isn’t everything, but our relationship thrives when both of our intimacy needs are met, and physical needs are a part of that. I know we’re getting closer. This is just one step on our way back to each other, and fuck, it sure felt good.

Chapter twenty-nine

Dom

Ellie’s distracted as she taps away on her laptop at our dining room table, on the opposite end of where her half-completed puzzle lies. The late afternoon sun shines through the window, casting her silhouette in a warm glow. Her hanging plants thrive in this space, soaking up the rays.

Ellie’s brows are drawn together in concentration as she looks from her screen back to her notebook, where she jots down notes, returning to type on the keyboard a moment later.

A wave of nostalgia hits me, seeing her at this table deep in concentration. I’m transported back in time. That was always her spot when she would work on the gift registry for Luca’s baby shower. She carefully considered each item, weighed the pros and cons of each brand, trying to keep it simple but still making sure we’d have everything we’d need to welcome Luca home.

We spent so many nights sitting together, looking at everything, dreaming about what it’d be like when he was finally here. Eventually, her pregnant body would ache from the unforgiving chairs, and we’d move to the couch. She’d lie lengthways, wedging herself between the arm of the couch, ten pillows, and the back couch cushion.

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