Page 68 of Jaded Princess

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FINGERING CUCUMBERS

Theo’s bodywas a water slick against my fingers, but I hopped on the slide, gliding down the ridges of muscle, the hard lines of him satin beneath my touch. The spray of the shower washed over our faces, pooled against our lips, but my tongue was only wet from him. He tilted me to the side, kissing me with tongue.

My arms wound their way around his neck while his traveled down my torso, met my hips, and lifted my thigh, balancing it between the glass partition and his body.

I felt him between my legs, the stiffness of his against mine, but he didn’t demand access and instead drew out the tease.

“Please…” I breathed.

“Tell me you want it.”

I told myself to exhale through the swell, the ache of having him near, but not near enough. “I…”

“Admit you want me.”

“I’ve…”

He lingered near my opening, the tip of him stroking, tempting, a temperance of demand where, if he didn’t make a move already, I was going to take his dick and ride him on my own terms.

“Stop fucking around, Sax.” I sounded out of breath, though I hadn’t even exerted the effort of lifting my own leg.

“That’s exactly what I aim to do, but you need to ask for it.”

“You know I want this.”

“You want me inside you.”

“Yes, Sax.”

“Say it. Say my name.”

“Sax!”

“Wrong one.” Theo pulled back, the shower’s tears trickling down his nose, bringing his hair flat against his forehead until he flicked it back. His stubble glittered, his lips so dewy I wanted to suck on them like my favorite cherry lollipop.

“Goddamn you,” I said. “Theo. I want you,Theo.I’ve always wanted you. I haven’t had anyone since you.”

That admittance, though completely unplanned, had his pupils flaring, his growl of dominance echoing within the shower walls. His irises had gone dark, the grey-blue of an incoming coastal storm.

“Don’t you dare stop now,” I breathed out.

We’re making a mistake.

I staunched the conscious thought, giving into my subconscious need instead. For him. For Theo, the man who’d left a second hole in my heart and made no promises to fill it up again. And I showed it by gripping his neck and pulling him back.

Theo released his hold—so briefly I barely felt when he used two fingers to part me—butGod, I felt it when he plunged.

The wall tiles were ice against my back at the slam, the hot and cold of the mixing temperatures culminating into my voice-filled gasp drenching the air between us.

He lifted my hips, positioning so he could have the deepest access, and I torqued my head back, drowning from the pleasure of having him fill me. The shortness of breath I felt could have been from the water cascading over my mouth until his lips covered mine. Theo’s fingers tangled at the back of my neck, the white noise of the shower doing little to disguise his moans and my cries.

“Theo, I’m going to…”

Theo brought his mouth near my ear, his head dipping with passion and landing near my collarbone. “Not until I want you to.”

He pulled back, emptying the space between us, and before I could voice my disapproval, he spun us on the wet stone floor, throwing me off enough so that my hands slammed against the shower wall, and entered me from behind.

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