Page 86 of Our Long Days
Under the warm spray, back to me, Florence’s hips sway, fingers massaging the suds in her hair. Tan lines still lace her skin, hinting at a tiny bikini I’ve yet to see. She was created for me. Mine to admire. Carved for my eyes only.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
I drink my fill, letting the cup overflow. The dip of her waist where my hands fit perfectly. The delicate curve of her neck where she loves my kisses. The cleft of her bottom where rivulets of water disappear.
I’m fucking starved, hunger stricken, desperate to lap up her sweet, musky taste.
A few feet away, music filters in, the tempo slow and sensual, like her movements. My belongings join her phone on the windowsill. I toe off my boots and quietly slip into the stall. Bamboo lines the sides for privacy, a large waterfall showerhead overhead, mismatched tiles decorating the floor.
Florence’s body language shifts. One hand cups her breast, soaping it up as she plays with a tight pink nipple. The other snakes down her torso, disappearing between her thighs. Her back bows as she hums in pleasure.
I allow her a few moments to play with herself before I step under the water and snatch up her wrist.
She doesn’t flinch.
I lift her hand overhead and suck her glistening fingers into my mouth.
“Dex,” she breathes, as if my arrival is unexpected.
“Don’t act coy, baby,” I murmur against her knuckles, turning her to face me. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”
She bites her lip, and then on the tips of her toes, she wraps her arms around my neck, dragging me into a kiss. My palm meets her ass with a crack.
“Hey! What was that for?” she shrieks.
“Anyone could have walked in on you, Florence. Anyone could have seen what belongs to me.” Another slap.
A full body shiver wracks her frame.
She squeals as I hook an arm under her bottom, hoisting her over my shoulder. I slap the faucet off, killing the water, andstride toward the house. My wet clothes squelch with each step. I don’t bother closing the front door.
“You’re going to ruin the floors!”
“I’m going to ruin you.No other man will ever be good enough.”
Her resounding silence is telling. She wants that.
Once we’re in my bedroom, I lay her gently on my bed, not caring about the sheets. Or the floors. Or goddamn anything but her. Staring down at her, I snap a mental image of her splayed out, legs open, chest heaving, pussy bared.
I peel off my T-shirt, and it splats on the hardwood floor. My jeans follow next, then my briefs and socks, until I’m standing over her, aching cock in hand.
Her hungry gaze eats up every jerk of my wrist.
“You’re awfully territorial this evening.”
My voice drops a few octaves. “Ain’t nothing territorial about it, Florence. You’re mine, and tonight, you’re going to give every inch of your body over to me.” Her glistening body glows as my gaze sweeps over her. “Get the toy, a condom, and lube.”
Understanding shines in her doe eyes.
Not a moment later, she crawls over the mattress, reaches into the drawer, and pulls out the bright pink dildo and other items. Settling on her knees in front of me, lashes lowered, she hands them over.
She reads my mood, knowing I don’t want to play with the brat tonight.
“Good girl.” I tuck a damp strand of hair behind her ear. “Now, get on all fours, back to me. Let’s see how loud you scream when you’re stuffed full of my cock and this toy.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
florence
