Page 40 of Zeppelin
My breath hitches at the next stroke and the next. He rinses the razor off in the water pooling in the basin by the drain at my feet.
The top is easier, my skin already tingling and prickling at the freshly shaved, clean feeling, but when he parts the rest of me and holds part of me taut while he glides the razor over my skin, I throw my head back and close my eyes. My hands shift, splaying against each side of the shower to hold myself up. He parts me with his thick fingers again and again, shaving all the hard to reach spots with more ease than he has any right to given that he doesn’t have this anatomy.
This should not be hot.
It shouldn’t.
It should be weird, embarrassing, and invasive.
If it was, I would stop him, but of course it’s not.
Zeppelin is so commanding and assured between my legs, but he’s so gentle too. Seeing his head bowed, a look of concentration tightening his granite features, his massive body leashed and all his power held back so he can perform the mostintimate task for me—it all translates into heat coiling in my belly. It builds and builds, combining with the shower’s spray to make me shivery and sensitive all over.
By the time he’s done, I’m a trembling wreck. I’m so far gone that I’d do anything he wanted to do. I want his tongue and his cock filling every single part of my body until I’m raw and spent from taking it.
I nearly scream at him when he reaches past me and shuts the shower off without licking or touching or kissing my body at all.
Does he want me to beg for it?
Normally that would be a hurt turn off, but this isn’tnormal.I’ll beg. Happily.
“Come here,” he coaxes me, extending a hand. He looks and sounds so unaffected, but his eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them. A muscle in his jaw leaps, throbbing all the way up to his temple. I can tell that he’s paying for this careful and calm demeanor.
As soon as I set my hand on his palm, he tugs me into him. He sweeps me up so fast that I lose my breath. He carries me from the bathroom and drapes me over the black comforter on his bed.
He fishes that container of ice cream out of the trashcan and pops the lid. We’re both soaked, dripping water all over. I want to lick up all the little beads on his golden skin, run my tongue over his boxed abs, lick that prominent V that disappears into his soaked boxers. I want my mouth on that massive bulge there. I want to suck his balls, ride his face, have him lickme until I’m so swollen that it hurts to take his cock. I want everything. Fuck, I just wantsomething.
I do want his careful control and eyes glittering with devilment and danger because he can tell how desperate I am for him.
He digs two fingers into the ice cream and pulls them out. He walks over, sits down on the edge of the bed, and paints my lips without warning. “Want you to show me how you’d suck my cock, Ginny. Fuck my fingers with that pretty mouth.”
I do, grasping his wrist and nearly choking myself in my hurry. I suck his fingers, laving them with my tongue, rolling it over his fingertips.
“Fuck,” he curses. He tears his hand away and dips it back into the container. He doesn’t bring them to my mouth again. Instead, he smears ice cream all over my nipples and breasts. It had just enough time while we were in the shower to be soft enough for him to paint me with it.
I can barely stand his fingers on the hard peaks of my nipples and on the heavy fullness of my breasts, but when he licks it off, his tongue just about takes me straight to the edge. I grind my thighs together to try and relieve the pressure while I arch my back and shamelessly grasp his hair and drag his face down to me for more. The cold ice cream and his hot mouth are a contrast that scramble my brain.
He slips his big, rough hands under my hips, hiking my ass up into the air. In the same motion, he swipes a pillow out from the top of the bed and stuffs it under.
“This okay?”
“You mean is it safe for the baby, or am I comfortable? Because it’s yes to both.”
“Good. Hold yourself open for me, Ginny. Put your fingers on your shaved pussy and feel how sensitive you are now. I want to see your sweet little hole glistening with all that cream I’m going to lap up.”
Holy fuck.
I blindly follow his command, too far gone in a sexual haze.
He kisses me from the inner corner of my thigh, over my freshly shaved mound, down to my clit. He seals his mouth over me. I do more than just shudder. My hips are already in his hands, my body pinned in the air without being pinned at all. I can’t shove them up higher. He’s already got me lifted to his mouth, kissing and stroking my clit with his tongue like a benediction.
His tongue traces my slit all the way down to my entrance.
My nerve endings spark. There’s nothing between us but my skin and his. It’s a different level of communication. Something nearly transcendent.
I dig my heel down into his shoulder, searching for traction. Searching for something, anything, as his tongue gathers up all the wet that’s already escaped. He doesn’t waste a drop, licking and eating, sucking at me as if I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted and he’s desperate to have more, more, all of it.
All of me.
