Page 44 of Madness Becomes Her
Walking into the bathroom, I spy a new pipe jutting from the wall. “Fin! Is that a shower?”
“It is!”
“Like in my world?”
“I heard you telling Lewis you wished for a hot shower like at home, and I tasked him with figuring out what thisshowerwas you spoke of.”
Turning a knob now added to the wall, I’m thrilled when the spray of water jets down from above. “Oh, Fin! This is perfect.”
“I want you to feel at home here, Tiger Lily.” The husky tone of his voice rakes against my skin and I straighten, breathing through the reaction before turning back towards him.
I’ve been trying my damnedest not to force everything I’m feeling on him.
I don’t turn around. “Thank you, Fin.”
The hand holding the wrench curls around my stomach, pressing my back into the hard lines of his body. His lips graze my ear. “You’re welcome.”
My eyes shut, my body reacting in an all-out flare of lust that nearly consumes me.
“I magicked the water to remain hot for you, so you can stay there as long as you’d like. Lewis also brought you some soaps from your world, they’re on the sink.”
“Thank you both.” Turning, I allow him to see the way my body has reacted to his touch: my flushed cheeks, my hardened nipples, the way my thighs press together.
His eyes grow hungry, but he merely swallows. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Enjoy. Make sure you don’t fall down the drain. Downland isn’t as nice as Wonderland, I assure you.”
Turning, I spy the drain, swallowing over a growing lump of fear. “I’ll try not to.”
Stripping out of my clothes, I step under the spray of water. I’ll need to remind Finlo that showers need curtains. But for today, I don’t mind feeling exposed beneath the cascade of hot water beating my skin.
The flushed feeling of arousal from Fin earlier still lingers, and not for the first time, I think about slipping my hand somewhere forbidden to curb the ache.
I’m always either with Fin or he’s nearby. All the stories I’ve read about the Fae claim they have heightened hearing. When I’m in the bath, it’s too silent to masturbate, but the sound the pipework and the shower are giving off might be enough…
I’m eyeing the door that doesn’t lock as my breathing speeds, my nipples hardening all over at the prospect of making myself come for the first time in weeks.
Pretty soon, there’s no other option because not coming would put me in a foul mood the rest of the day, and I have to focus to get Prospero out of the Red Queen’s dungeons.
Turning my back toward the door, I slide my hand over my breasts, pinching them. Thrill races my veins as my hand slinks over my belly, finding my clit first.
My mouth drops open at the first swirl of my clit.
I’m becoming less aware of my surroundings as I lean into how it feels to touch the ache that’s been tormenting me for far too long. Sitting on the tub’s edge, my body facing the door, thethrill of Fin possibly entering only adds to the titillation. My fingers skirt my entrance, teasing before sinking inside.
Brazenly, I forget my surroundings and let out a moan, but I’m too focused on relieving this ache that now has molten lava bolting through my veins like lightning.
My head falls back when I grind the heel of my palm against my clit, deepening the plunge of my fingers.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
The expletive covers the opening the door, but not the clicking of it closing.
My eyes flutter open, my head lifting to look at Finlo, whose green eyes scan every inch of the situation he’s walked into.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not stopping my hand’s movements.
With him here, I’m enlivened. My body arches into my hand. Only one hand grips the tub’s edge now for leverage.
Finlo walks closer, dropping to his knees beside the tub, his eyes still scanning between where I ride my hand and my face.
