Page 24 of Oath
With a smile that promised sin, he held out a hand, beckoning me to join him. I didn't hesitate, stepping under the spray and into his embrace. The water was hot, almost scalding, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his body against mine. His hands roamed, exploring every curve and valley, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
I pressed against him, feeling the hard length of him against my stomach, and a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. He was so big, so powerful, and I had the singular most primitive urge to climb him right now and sink down on that length until we were both breathless and begging for more. The thought sent a wave of wetness between my legs, and I ground against him, seeking friction, seeking relief.
Bones groaned, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through his chest and into mine. His hands gripped my ass, then lifted me until the head of his cock nudged against my entrance. I was so ready, so wet, and I ached to feel him inside me, to be impaled on his length.
But he held back, goddammit. His self-control had bypassed impressive and tumbled right down into frustrating as hell. The only thing stilling my protests was the naked hunger burning in his eyes.
"Not yet," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "First, I want to taste you."
With that, he spun us around, pressing me against the cool tiles of the shower wall. His mouth found mine in a searing kiss, his tongue invading, exploring, claiming. I moaned into him, my hands gripping his shoulders, my nails digging into his flesh. He tasted like sin and promise, like everything I ever wanted and more.
His mouth trailed down my neck, nipping and sucking, leaving marks that would no doubt bloom into bruises. I arched into him, offering myself up, a willing sacrifice to his desires. His hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core. I was a live wire, every touch sending sparks of sensation through my body, every kiss leaving me more desperate, more needy.
I had no idea if he was pushing me up the wall or he slid down, but then his mouth was on me, his tongue swirling around my nipple, sucking and nipping, and I cried out, the sound echoing off the tiles. He was relentless, his mouth and hands working in tandem, driving me higher and higher, until I was a trembling, begging mess, pleading for release.
The demand in his lips and tongue were every bit as fierce as when he stroked me to mindless pleasure in the bed, but at least this time I could touch him. I gripped his soaking wet hair as much to hang onto him as to anchor myself in the moment.
Not that it stopped him. He slid his hands down my body. Then his fingers found my clit, circling, teasing, until I was riding the edge of orgasm. The little death seemed like a great gaping chasm that I wanted to dive into. With a final, almost kind flick of his finger, he sent me tumbling over, my body convulsing, my scream of release lost in the steam and the spray of the shower.
As I came down from the high, I found Bones watching me, his eyes dark with desire, his cock throbbing against my thigh. I reached for him, my hand wrapping around his length, and he hissed, his hips jerking forward. I stroked him, my hand sliding up and down his shaft, feeling the velvety softness of his skin, the steel hardness beneath.
He was so big, so impressive, and he would fill me completely, stretch me in a way that would leave me aching and satisfied. The thought sent another wave of wetness between my legs, and I guided him to my entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against my clit, coating him in the slick release.
“I’ve wanted this so much,” I managed to squeeze out in a hoarse whisper. “Wanted you.”
“Anything you want, Dollface.” Despite the declaration, he hadn’t moved more than to rock against my palm. Little teasing strokes that bumped him against my clit and sent shivers of electricity through my system.
“You,” I said, sliding another hand up to fist his hair. “I wantyou. Now.”
Bones groaned, a primal sound that was more growl than moan. It was so fucking beautiful, just like him. Then he thrust forward, impaling me on his length in one smooth stroke. The sensation of being filled so completely, so perfectly, was almost too much to bear. It shoved all the air out of my lungs and I cried out. I wanted more and had no idea if I could take more, though neither conflicting thought was going to stop me.
My legs were around his waist, gripping as tightly to his damp skin as I could manage. The earlier muscle fatigue fled in the face of so much wild need. He held still for a moment, giving me time to adjust, and his gaze locked on mine. His breathing seemed to be coming in the same ragged explosions as mine.
“Hi,” I whispered, drinking in his fierce expression and the way his eyes threatened to devour me.
“Hey,” he whispered with far more control than I would ever have. “I’m going to move now.”
“Oh, thank God,” I swore and another genuine smile creased his face and stopped my heart. I forgot how to breathe until he began to rock his hips, thrusting, and his cock slid in and out of me in a rhythm that was both brutal and beautiful.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he pounded into me, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through my body. The tiles were cool against my back, a stark contrast to the heat of his body. I could feel the pressure building again, the coils of pleasure tightening. I was close, so close.
Bones must have sensed it too, for he reached between us, his fingers finding my clit, rubbing in tight, quick circles. I cried out, my body convulsing, my inner muscles clenching around him as I came, hard and fast, my orgasm ripping through me like a storm.
He followed soon after, his body tensing, his cock pulsing as he spilled himself inside me, filling me. We stayed like that for a moment, our bodies entwined, our breaths nothing but ragged gasps.
At some point, he pulled back enough to cup my face. The stroke of his thumbs against my cheek helped me float back to the steam-filled haven we occupied. With care, he eased out of me and we both shuddered but he helped me to stand on my feet.
"Shower?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, and I laughed, filled with a savage sense of satisfaction and utter joy.
"Shower," I agreed, and together, we stepped under the spray, ready to start all over again.
Chapter
Eight
VOODOO
Istepped into the dimly lit bar, the air thick with the weight of stale cigarette smoke, old sweat, and tired secrets. The isolated location on some back highway in the middle of the desert set the stage like we were actors in some bad western.
