Page 48 of Covert
She turns to me, leaning against the counter. "How are you feeling? Do you need a break from touching?"
I shake my head. I'm overwhelmed, nervous, unsure, but I trust her and don't feel the overwhelming panic that normally comes with being around a woman.
"Can I undress you?" she asks, turning on the shower water and feeling for it to warm up.
I nod, adjusting my sticky crotch.
Tiny hands work their way under my shirt as I raise my arms, and she lifts it over my head. It's my first time being naked in front of a woman, and it's a different level of vulnerability. Will she hate the scars? The prison tattoos I've been meaning to get covered up with better work? Being the biggest guy in the prison, new and reoffending prisoners would pick fights with me to try to establish dominance in the intricate hierarchy of a man's prison. I didn't like fighting, but after the first few ruthless beatings, I learned that the prison guards didn't take "rapists" lightly and let it go on for a lot longer than it should have. The second beating, I was stabbed with a shiv. It luckily missed any vital organs, but the warden reprimanded the guards, and I learned to fight back to protect myself. It was a long fucking five years.
She traces the scar on my stomach with her thumb and then bends down to kiss it. "I'm sorry that happened to you," she whispers. I'm sorry too.
She gently pulls down my pajama bottoms and then my boxers. I step out of them, self-consciously covering my dick. She looks at me slowly, from head to toe, and I flush with self-consciousness. She simply shakes her head and mutters, "lucky bitch," under her breath.
I don't know why she thinks she can't stay. Why she can't be ours. We can protect her from anything and anyone. We would, too. I know she's been spending nights with Axel, and Diesel's already head over heels for her. Maddox has been slower to warm up to her, but I catch the longing looks he's been throwing her. He just doesn't know how to cross that threshold and allow someone in.
After tonight, we have to convince her to stay.
She takes my hand in hers, and I follow her like a lovestruck puppy. My shower is cramped with just me in it, but I try to make as much room for her as I can. She squeezes out a dollop of my body soap and runs her hands in small circles on my chest, up over my shoulders, and up my neck. Her touch is as electric as it is soothing. My cock kicks back to life just at her touch. She washes my arms, down my stomach, thighs, and calves. We've been touching, slowly growing what I've been comfortable with over the last few weeks, but this feels different. This feels worshipful. Like she's trying to tell me with her body, with her hands, and her actions how much I actually mean to her. I want to do the same in return.
She spins me around gently with her hands on my shoulders, and I obey silently, my cock throbbing. I know this isn't supposed to be a sexual moment, but my body is thrumming with desire for this woman that goes beyond the physical. It's her. Her patience, her caring, her kindness, her giving me something back I never thought I would have, completely selflessly. Like it never occurred to hernotto help me.
So when she spins me back around, I pinch her chin in my hand and tilt her head up. I look into each of her eyes, willing her to understand what I can't say out loud. I lean down and kiss her softly, sweetly. Thanking her for everything.
She presses her wet chest against mine, tilts up on her toes, and wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me back. It starts sweet, but her slick, warm skin pressed against mine from knees to chest is too much. The kiss quickly becomes heated when she slips her tongue in my mouth and brings her hands to my ass. She presses me harder against her, and it gives my cock a delicious amount of pressure fromwhere it's pinned between our bodies. She twists to the side but doesn't let go of my mouth. Instead, she wraps her still soapy hand around my hard cock and gives it a tug.
Oh fuck.
"Can I touch you?" I whisper on a pant as we break apart.
She nods enthusiastically. "Yes, please."
I press my large hand against her belly and slide it down until my fingers touch her clit, causing her to moan. I slide my middle finger through warm, wet, silky skin until I'm at her entrance. I pause for a moment, unsure of myself, but she grinds herself on my palm, seeking friction. I slide one thick finger into her and swallow her moan. I feel the inside of her, pumping my finger in and out of her with a 'come hither' motion. She grips my shoulders harder and moans again, quickening her pace on my cock.
I'm not going to last. I'm overwhelmed by her. She's everywhere and touching me, moaning and gasping. My head starts to spin, so I slam my free hand against the wall so I don't faint. And slide another finger in. She cries out a breathy "yes!" and grinds herself harder against my hand.
"Talk me through it. Am I doing okay?" I pant, searching her face that this is okay for her.
"Fuck. Okay. God, Beck. You feel so good. I'm going to come. Just keep doing that. Fuck," she pants out, holding onto my shoulders for dear life. Her knees buckle, and she wraps her arms around my shoulders, burying her face in my neck.
"C-Coming. Fuck, I'm coming!" she shouts, and I marvel at how her walls squeeze my fingers in waves. I imagine them squeezing my cockthat way, and with a final stroke, I come again, shooting long ropes of cum against her belly and the tub.
I slip my fingers out of hers and wrap my arms around her, in case her legs are weak. God, she feels so good in my arms. Small, vulnerable, protected. She's small where I'm big, but she's strong where I'm weak, and I love how we fit together like puzzle pieces.
She lifts her head on a chuckle. "We were supposed to be getting cleaner. Not dirtier."
She swipes at the cum on her stomach, and I fear for a moment she'll be disgusted by it, but like every other sexual thing, she's perfectly at home. I need to start reading some of her smutty books. Maybe they'd help me know what to expect with her and make me more comfortable sexually.
"Hey, you started it," I tease back, grabbing my body wash and starting to wash her chest.
"I'd better do it. I'm not sure how many more times I can come tonight, and if you wash me, we're definitely doing it again."
I smile, relaxed in the knowledge that we touched and the sky didn't fall. She hasn't looked at me or judged me, and found me lacking. She enjoyed our time together and wants more. So I let her scrape the body wash off my hands and lean against the back wall, watching her. It's pornographic, and by the end, I'm hard again. But sated enough physically and emotionally to ignore it.
I dry us off and lend her some of my clothes, asking her to spend the night with me. Axel might be mad at me for stealing her, but coming and then watching her walk away doesn't sit right with me. I want her here mentally and physically, too.
And just like that, we cross another thing off of my 'never been done before' list, and I fall asleep with a woman on my chest.
Chapter twenty-five
