Page 28 of Rematch
“God,” she cried out, her back arching as she came hard. While Preston would have killed to be inside her body, experiencing that orgasm in 4-D, it was just as potent this way because he was able to focus more on her response than his. He held her upright, her body too shaky to do the job. Her breathing was staggered, and he could feel her swollen clit pulsing between his fingers. She closed her hands into fists briefly before opening them again and splaying them on the tile, seeking purchase, support.
She didn’t need it. He would never let her fall.
There was something truly beautiful about watching this woman come undone in his arms. Because in that moment, she wasn’t just giving him her body.
No. Chelsea was giving him something so much better.
Her trust.
She’d been hurt this year, and he had gotten the sense from their conversations that her ex’s cruel actions hadn’t just broken her heart but wounded her ability to trust.
The knowledge that she was offering that trust to him tonight, warmed him all the way to the depths of his soul.
Only when the last vestiges of her climax had waned did Preston give in to his own needs. Gripping his cock in his fist, he pumped it roughly, rapidly, no more than a dozen strokes necessary before he came between her thighs, as well as on her lower back and ass.
“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth, shocked by how much come there was, considering he’d just filled a condom less than half an hour ago. “Jesus. Chelsea.” Her name fell from his lips like a prayer. God knew that was what this night with her felt like. The answer to a prayer, something he’d never even thought to ask for.
The side of Chelsea’s head rested on her hand against the wall, her gaze cast over her shoulder in his direction. “You are so sexy,” she murmured.
He couldn’t hold back his grin as he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder. “Can’t hold a candle to you.”
Chelsea pushed herself upright, and Preston spun her around until her back was directly under the stream of hot water. Pumping some body wash on his hand, he scrubbed away his come, then dragged his fingers through her slit, cleaning off her own arousal.
“It occurs to me I’ve been doing showers wrong my whole life,” she said, her voice husky as she looked up at him through long lashes.
“Oh yeah?”
“I’ve always used them for getting clean. I see now, the best showers are the ones where you get very, very dirty.”
Preston laughed, even though she made one hell of a point.
Turning off the water, he reached for a towel before helping her out of the shower. She giggled as he vigorously dried her off, then swatted his hands away as he started sluicing water from her long hair.
“I’m perfectly capable of drying myself off,” she said, grinning widely.
“Well, I’m not, and this is definitely a tit-for-tat situation.” Preston grabbed a dry towel and handed it to her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Chelsea took it without complaint. While his attempt at drying her off had been playful, hers was full-on seduction as she slowly drew the soft material over his skin.
His cock took notice—because of course it did—and within minutes, he was riding at half-mast again. She was going to be the death of him. And he didn’t fucking mind a bit. He’d had a good life.
Once they were dry, they returned to the bedroom, crawling beneath the covers together. They hadn’t even known each other six hours, and yet it felt completely natural to lay next to her, neither of them uncomfortable in their nudity.
“I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come tonight,” she whispered.
“You keep mentioning that.”
“Because it’s pretty fucking notable,” she said, half joking, half serious.
“Am I to assume you’ve broken some sort of record? Tonight’s your personal best or something?”
Chelsea’s eyes widened. “Or something, for sure. My previous best was twice in one night, and that was because Rick was tipsy and riding high over a big promotion at work. It put him in a frisky, celebratory mood.” Then she sighed. “Dammit. I’m sorry. I hate that I keep bringing him up.”
Preston gripped the back of her neck, tilting her downturned face upward until her gaze connected with his. “Chelsea. I’m never going to bitch about comparisons between me and your ex when I come out sounding like a total stud.”
His joke had the desired effect as she cracked up. “Oh my God. I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed this much. You are too much.”
“Aaaaaand?” he prompted.
