Page 93 of Hot Momosa

“He’s all bark and no bite.”

I opened my eyes and caught her staring below the waist. “Want me to wash your front?”

She released an impatient huff. “Sure, if that’s how you want to spend our limited time.”

I liked this new and needy side of her. In fact, I liked it so much, I decided to play a little game to see who caved first. I ran the sponge over her chest, making extra sure her breasts were squeaky clean. She turned toward the spray but I stopped her. “Not so fast. Why waste perfectly good body wash?”

She gave me a dubious look.

I pulled her chest to mine and rubbed against her until we were equally sudsy.

Laughing, Dahlia draped her arms over my shoulders. “Kiss me already.”

I leaned in and she met me in the middle. Her lips played across mine as I explored her lower back and butt.

“You’re beautiful.” I tugged her head to the side and kissed a line from her ear to her collarbone.

Dahlia hooked her leg around my waist, and my brain short circuited.

I eased her against the wall and ran my fingers down her chest, drawing circles around her breasts. “I love these.”

“They missed you today.”

God, I loved this woman. “Is that right”

“Yes, but they’re feeling neglected. You didn’t even kiss them hello.” She watched as I leaned forward and flicked my tongue over her nipple.

Her half-lidded smile almost killed my resolve to tease her—almost. I slid my hand down her belly.

Dahlia’s breath caught. “Leo…”

“Hmm?” I released her breast and moved to the other.

She wobbled, but I had no intentions of letting her fall. “I want you.”

“In a minute.” I dropped to my knees and stared up at her while running my hands over her hips and thighs.

“We don’t have time for this.” Dahlia closed her eyes and rested her head against the cool marble wall.

“It won’t take long.” I eased her legs apart.

At the first stroke of my tongue, she hissed out a breath.

“Should I stop?” I licked her again.

“Don’t you dare.”

I added my fingers to the mix, stroking, sucking, biting, teasing until she tangled her fingers in my hair and held me where she wanted me—exactly where I wanted to be—on my heels with my face buried between her legs.

Dahlia’s thighs quivered, but that didn’t stop her from grinding against my mouth. “I’m going to come. Don’t let me fall.”

I braced her with my shoulders and doubled down, working her faster and harder.

She held her breath. Her body tensed. It was as if my entire world zeroed in on pushing her over the edge. Dahlia cried out for me to stop, to continue, to finish her, and then she shattered.

I didn’t stop. Not when she tried to squirm away, not when she begged, not when her body shuddered with aftershocks.

“Enough.” Dahlia sagged, bent in half over my head and shoulders.

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