Page 69 of Until You Came Along
“Let’s go inside, darling,” he said, giving me a tender kiss on the lips.
He opened the door so I could get out, and I had to make a great effort not to fall because my legs were trembling. Upon entering, he took me directly to his bedroom.
“Let’s take a shower,” he ordered, tugging at my hand.
“Hermes, I wouldn’t want to leave too late because I have an important meeting tomorrow at nine.”
He turned to look at me and then stood in front of me, staring at me seriously.
“You’re not leaving. We’re going to spend the whole night together. I want you to sleep with me.”
“I like the idea of sleeping together, but as I told you earlier, I have a meeting that I can’t postpone.”
“Tomorrow I’ll drop you off at your place at eight, but you’re staying with me,” he stated, not giving me any other option. It was evident that he hadn’t understood my suggestion about not presenting his ideas in such an authoritarian way.
I let him drag me to the shower because at that hour and with the physical activity we’d had in the car, I was exhausted. He didn’t allow me to take off my clothes; he did it with greatdelicacy. When I was naked, he quickly got rid of his clothes and guided me to the shower. He began to soap me gently, but within minutes his mouth was also all over my body, traveling up to my lips to claim my mouth completely. Without stopping our kisses, I clung to his body and began to caress his back. Mine hit the wall, and he took advantage to lift my legs and wrap them around his waist.
“You drive me crazy, Delfina…” he gasped into my mouth.
He didn’t wait any longer; we were both ready to unite, and he penetrated me forcefully. He began to move slowly and gradually increased the intensity of his thrusts. Our gasps became increasingly intense, mixing with the sound of water hitting our bodies, but the liberating cry that we both emitted wasn’t silenced by anything. Release came in a monumental orgasm that left us completely stunned and limp.
When we got out of the shower, he wrapped me in a towel, and he put one around his waist.
“Do you have a hair dryer I can borrow?” I asked.
“Inside that cabinet,” he said, pointing to it.
“I’m going to dry my hair because otherwise I’ll get your whole bed wet. Would you like me to dry yours?” I asked.
“You would do that?” he asked with surprise, and I found it curious that such a gesture would amaze him so much.
“Of course, come here,” I said, stretching out my hand.
I had him sit in a chair that was in the bathroom and, after plugging in the dryer, I devoted myself to caressing his hair and drying it. He closed his eyes and let me do it. When his hair was dry, I turned off the dryer and looked at him.
“All done,” I said.
“That felt nice,” he affirmed with a smile.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now I’ll dry mine.”
“Would you like me to do it?” he asked, and at that moment I was the surprised one because I couldn’t imagine him doing that task.
“Don’t worry, I have a lot of hair, and drying it takes much more time than yours did.”
“Let me do it,” he insisted.
“Very well,” I agreed, and sat in the chair he had occupied while he turned on the dryer and began the task.
“You have beautiful hair,” he said as he caressed it.
“Thank you, and you have a good hand for this,” I joked.
“I have no experience in this task, so I don’t think I’m very good, but in others, I can assure you that I am,” he stated, looking at me through the mirror with a sensual smile.
“And there’s ‘Mr. Modest’ for you,” I joked again.
“I’m not modest. What’s wrong with acknowledging that you’re good at something?”
