Page 102 of The One I Need
Fuck, my husband is hot.
“What are you doing in here?”
Oliver places both hands on my shoulders, starting to work the knots that I’m desperate to make go away. “I thought I’d join my wife in the shower. Because, well, I can.”
“Yes, you can,” I sigh, tilting my head to the side, giving him the opening that he takes to press his lips on the curve of my neck. He keeps massaging my shoulders, working the tension through his fingers in the most delicious pain.
I lean into Oliver, loving the feel of his lips and hands working me in tandem. I don’t know how something can be so relaxing, yet so erotic, at the same time. On one hand, I’m melting into Oliver’s touch with every pressure point he hits. On the other hand, his lips, which are starting to explore further than my neck, are making me want Oliver to do some dirty things to me in this shower before we get ourselves clean.
“Oliver…”
His lips stop only for the second that he needs to turn me around, slowly moving me back so I’m now against the cold tile of the shower wall. The contrast of the temperatures is like a pleasure and pain on my senses. That is, until my attention shifts to Oliver kissing his way down my wet body.
“Ol—”
“Shhhh,” he says between kisses. “Let me take care of you.”
I dare someone to tell me six sexier words in the English language. Okay, maybe “take it like a good girl” is in the mix. But I still say “let me take care of you” is up there. Because I know just a few weeks ago, that sentence would have sent me into a full-blown panic attack. The thought of allowing anyone, let alone a man, say they were going to take care of me, every ounce of trauma would have drowned me. It would have meant that once again someone was trying to control my life under the pretense of love or adoration. Turns out those words can be used to show love, not use the premise of love and security against you.
So I do something in this moment I thought I would never let anyone do.
I let Oliver take care of me.
He starts kissing his way down my wet body until he’s on his knees. I can’t take my eyes off him. It’s like he’s trying to heal me one kiss at a time.
I let my hands glide through my now-wet hair as he gently lifts one of my legs and sets it on his shoulders. With the first pass of his magnificent tongue I nearly buckle from pure bliss. I need something to hold onto, but I don’t think that the wet shower tile is going to be much help. I dig my hands harder into his hair, holding on to him for dear life as he eats my pussy like it’s his last meal.
Oliver has always seemed to have the cheat code when it comes to my orgasms, and this one might be the fastest one to date. I think I rip out a chunk of his hair when he slides two fingers into me, finding my switch instantly as his tongue works circles on my clit.
“Fuck!” I scream. My whole body shakes from the orgasm, and I suddenly wish this shower came with a bench.
My body is still feeling the effects of the orgasm as Oliver sets down my leg and kisses his way up my body. He takes my hands in his, lifting them over my head as his lips dive into mine. I can taste myself on his tongue, and I know that shouldn’t be sexy, but somehow it is.
I am at the mercy of this man now. My hands are in his, and frankly, so is my body. And I’m not mad about any of that. I’m not worried that I can’t use my hands. I’m not freaking out that I’m not in charge.
In fact, this is kind of nice. A girl could get used to this.
Oliver releases my hands and slowly lets his fingers glide down the wet skin of my arms. He continues tracing down the side of me, grazing over my breasts as he finishes at my hips. My hands slowly fall to his shoulders, and good thing they do, because before I know it, Oliver is picking me up under my ass and pinning me against the shower wall.
“Oliver!” I yell in what comes out as a squeal.
“I got you,” he says, taking one hand from under me to hold it up to my lips. “Just feel me. Feel us.”
I nod, doing my best to let our connection take over as he enters me. The second my back hits the tile in conjunction with Oliver pumping into me, I nearly lose it. I’m pretty sure I start yelling swear words in an order that doesn’t make sense.
Which is fitting, because Oliver and I shouldn’t make sense. Yet, somehow we do in every way. He helps me see the light when I’m convinced there’s only darkness. He made me believe in something I thought was the biggest scam in history. I had heard about opposites attracting, but I never saw how that was possible. How could two people with so many differences make it work?
Yet, as Oliver drives into me, holding me up as my head is buried in his shoulder and my arms are clinging around him for dear life, I know that it’s true. It has to be. It’s the only explanation as to how something that makes zero sense on paper is perfect in real life.
“I love you Izzy,” Oliver says, his thrusts becoming faster. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” I whisper, trying to find my words between the waves of the building orgasm about to rip through my body.
Oliver grabs onto me tighter as his pace picks up speed. I clutch onto his hair again, needing something tangible to grip as I feel it build inside of me.
“Izzy!”
Oliver’s bellow sends us both over the edge. The sound of our breathing mixed in with the water hitting the shower floor is the only thing I hear as Oliver slowly puts me down on the ground, not letting me go as he reaches for my loofa. My legs are barely holding me up, so I wrap an arm behind me to hold onto Oliver. His free arm wraps around my waist as he begins to work the soap all over my body. He starts at my breasts, taking his time before traveling down to my stomach. He kneels down, pressing a kiss to my stomach that’s so sweet I nearly start crying. He continues down to my legs, making sure to get each inch of my body before coming back up and doing everything one more time.
