Page 17 of Haunted By the Mountain Man
She did, and I worked the shampoo through her hair. My fingers massaged her scalp, and she made a sound that shook me.
"God, your hands," she moaned, leaning back into me.
"What about them?"
"They're so careful. So gentle. But they're huge and I keep thinking about—" She cut herself off.
"Tell me." I rinsed her hair, then reached for the conditioner. "Tell me what you're thinking."
"I keep thinking about how they'll feel on me. In me,” she sighed. "I've never been with someone your size. Everything about you is..."
"Too much?"
She turned to face me, water droplets clinging to her eyelashes. "Dreamy."
I laughed. "More like a nightmare."
"No." She reached for the body wash, squirting it into her hands. “Not even close.” She started washing my chest, her touch exploratory, learning the planes and angles of my body. When her fingers traced the scar along my ribs—a souvenir from a bad call two years ago—I caught her wrist.
"Bicycle accident," she said, showing me a scar on her hip I hadn't noticed before. "Twelve years old. Thought I could fly."
"Kitchen knife," I countered, pointing to a mark on my forearm. "Foster home number three. Wasn't watching where I was cutting."
"Lies," she said. "That's too precise to be accidental."
I didn't deny it. Couldn't. Not when she was looking at me with those dark eyes that saw everything.
"We all have our ways of coping," she said, pressing a kiss to the scar. "Some of us explore abandoned buildings. Some of us save people. Some of us need physical pain to drown out the emotional kind."
"That was a long time ago."
"But the urge is still there sometimes, isn't it?" Her hands moved lower, soaping my stomach. "When the pressure buildsand you can't save everyone and the world feels like it's crushing you."
"How do you—"
"Because I feel it too. The weight. The darkness. The need to do something, anything, to make it stop." She was washing my hips now, deliberately avoiding where I desperately wanted her touch. "That's why I climb through broken windows and trespass on private property. The adrenaline drowns out everything else."
"And now?"
"Now I have something better than adrenaline." She finally wrapped her soapy hand around my cock, and I braced myself against the shower wall. "I have you."
"Raven—" Her name came out as a growl.
"Let me," she said, stroking slowly, learning what made me shake. "Let me take care of you for once."
"That's not—I'm supposed to—"
"Why? Because you're bigger? Because you're the man?" She increased her pace slightly, and my hips bucked involuntarily. "Maybe I want to watch you fall apart. Maybe I want to see what you look like when you're not in control."
"Fuck," I groaned, my hand coming up to tangle in her wet hair.
"That's it," she encouraged. "Let go for me."
But I couldn't. Not like this. Not without giving her pleasure first. "Spread your legs for me," I commanded softly.
She did, bracing herself against the wall, and I groaned at the sight of her. Pink and perfect and already swollen with need. I started slow, just my fingers at first, tracing her folds, learning what made her gasp.
slid one finger inside her, and we both moaned. She was tight, so tight, and the thought of how she'd feel around my cockmade me dizzy. I added a second finger, curling them to find that spot that made her legs shake.
