Page 78 of Between Us

“Adrian,” I plead, not sure what I’m begging for. Just knowing he’s the only person who can give it to me.

“Mmm,” he hums against my lips before dropping to his knees in front of me. Gripping one thigh—my still slightly injured leg—he throws it over his shoulder. Before he’s even fully settled my weight on him, his tongue darts out and licks my clit.

“Ahh,” I cry out and buck my hips, pushing myself further into his face.

Again, he hums in approval and pulls me closer. One hand on the thigh curled around him, the other now gripping my ass cheek, as he wastes no time getting fully acquainted with my pussy.

“Fuck, Blake,” he groans. Seeming to gain some control over himself, he pulls away far enough to look up at me. With the way I’m angled—hips pulled toward him, back pushed against the wall—and each panting breath, my tits rise and fall, blocking my view of him for short seconds.

With his thumb, he spreads me open and takes in the sight of me before him. With a cheeky grin, he looks up at me and muses, “Such a pretty pussy for an even prettier girl.”

I can feel my face flush, stunned by his words, yet feeling more alive than Ieverhave. Sex has always been more about quick pleasure, but with Adrian, it’s about every little experience and sensation.

He takes his time learning my body—licking, sucking, nibbling along my heated, sensitive skin. One of my hands slaps the tiles over my head while the other continues to hold the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as I thrust my hips against his face.

“Clit—my clit, Adrian,” I demand. Sliding his hand up to rub tight firm circles, he hums in approval and pushes me closer to the precipice.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs in between licks. “Use your words, baby.”

“God,yes,” I moan when his tongue moves inside me in tandem with his fingers running along the sensitive bundle of nerves.

And with every swipe, I’m closer… and closer… and closer…

Until I’m thrown over the edge and gasping out Adrian’s name, still holding him close to my center. As overwhelming as it is, the last thing I want is for him to go anywhere.

To his credit, he doesn’t pull away or move. Even once the pleasure has subsided and my arms fall limply to my sides. His fingers move from my over-sensitive clit, but his tongue continues lapping at my lingering arousal.

I’m so lost in the way he’s worshipping my body, I don’t notice he moved his hand from around my thigh until I hear the wet slide of skin against skin.

He’s fucking his hand while fuckingmewith his tongue.

The visual alone sends a new spark of need through my body. And from the look of tortured concentration on his face, I know he’s close.

Slipping one hand down to touch my clit while the other grips my own breast, I begin teasing the nipple in a similar way to how Adrian does.

Noticing that my pleasure’s building back up right alongside his, those eyes I could drown in drag open, and he looks at me with a dark, lustful gaze. I hold his eye contact while touching myself in rhythm with the way he’s touching both of us, we slowly bring ourselves to orgasm—mine seeming to be the catalyst that brings his own pleasure.

Panting, I slip my thigh from his shoulder and lean against the wall. My legs feel like Jell-O, and I consider dropping to the shower floor right now. Before I can, Adrian slides closer and rests his head against my lower stomach, right above my pelvis.

“Fuck, Blake,” he murmurs, placing soft kisses against my skin.

Taking a moment to catch my breath, I’m not sure what comes over me. But I find myself reaching for his shampoo. While I was staying here last week, I noted that it’s specific for his hair type and smells like cedar wood.

When he hears the lid flip open, his eyes find mine. The smile he offers me is tender and endearing. Allowing me to take care of him—in the same way he did for me a few minutes ago—he sits back on his heels as I work the suds into his hair, scratching my nails down the trimmed sides and back up. The gesture makes him groan in pleasure.

It’s different from the sounds he was making while between my legs, but it’s just as consuming. Letting me spend more time than needed to shampoo his hair, he stands and rinses it out.

At his full height, it would be too uncomfortable for both of us for me to finish the task. Instead, I hand him the accompanying conditioner and move to rinse my own hair.

Once I tie it up and out of the way again, I gasp when Adrian suddenly presses behind me and moves the washcloth along my stomach. It doesn’t take me more than a second to relax into his hold and let him do as he pleases.

The longer we’re in our own little bubble—surrounded by the building steam and only the sound of running water—I get the feeling that Adrian somehow needs this moment with me too. Like he’s getting just as much out of this newfound intimacy as I am. So, neither of us rushes as he finishes washing both of us and rinsing the lingering soap off.

I could stay here forever,I think to myself.

Until the water suddenly drops to a lukewarm temperature, and I yelp, trying to hide behind Adrian’s large body to protect myself.

Laughing, he leans forward, turns the tap off, and twists around to me. Swiftly, he lifts me around the waist.

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