Page 86 of The Jellybean Dilemma

I reached for Greg. He stepped forward to meet my hand, my fingers closing around the velvety skin of his cock.

His groan echoed between us as I gripped him hard, stroking him once, twice. “Rhonda, wait.”

I released my grip, realizing he needed this slow build between us, needed to go at his pace. His hands gripped my waist, sliding my pants off me. Then his lips were on mine, his hands at my waist, his cock against my stomach. I looped my arms around his neck, kissing him back.

“What’s next?” I asked.

“How about a shower?” His heated words stoked the fire within me.

His expression turned tender as he bent, sliding one arm behind my knees to pick me up. Moments later, he set me down in the bathroom, undressing me the rest of the way as the water heated up.

I stepped in first, basking under the warm spray. The shower door closed behind him, and his hands slipped over my sides, his fingers splaying across my abdomen. His erection pressed into my back as he cradled me to him. I dragged my fingers over his arms, leaning back into his firm torso. I couldn’t be more grateful for this amazing man.

“Now what?” I asked, tilting my head back.

He nuzzled my neck. “Can I wash you?” he asked, the husky words sending a jolt through me.

I nodded, and he slowly stepped away. Pouring shampoo into his palm, he rubbed his hands together. I stayed facing the spray, but I tipped my chin up as he smoothed the shampoo into my hair. His deft fingers kneaded my scalp in a perfect massage, and I hummed.

He nudged me forward slightly, aligning the cascade of water with my peaked nipple. Pleasure shot straight to my core, and I gasped.

His low chuckle rumbled between us. “You like that?”

“Yes,” I said breathily.

“Good.” He spun me around to face him. “Close your eyes.”

When all the suds were gone from my hair, he spun me around again then repeated the process with the conditioner. Complete with nudging me until my other breast rested under the spray.

The teasing game had excitement coiling in me as he rinsed out the conditioner. His dick pressed between us, and I couldn’t help running my hand down him. I leaned in, caging him between my hand and my abdomen. He let out a guttural groan, thrusting once, twice, then stepping back with his mouth tight. I loved how close he was to losing control.

“Turn around,” he said gruffly.

I glanced back to find him lathering up a washcloth with my body wash. He started with my shoulders as he stood to one side, his eager cock grazing my hip with each movement. It was all I could do to keep my hands to myself.

His touches were gentle and light, meant to tease and awaken but not satisfy. The exquisite torture lit my nerves on fire, stoking the blaze in my core as I ached for release. He washed my back, my arms and sides, then he dragged the washcloth over my chest, just above my breasts.

“Greg,” I whimpered.

He smirked, finally brushing the rough cloth over my aching nipple. He cupped, kneaded and fondled as my thighs clenched together. Then he dipped lower to my abdomen.

Anticipation coiled within me, but he made me wait as he washed my feet, ankles and knees. He pushed me gently until my back was against the shower wall, then he lifted one of my feet, propping it up on the low seat. I swallowed at the sight of his lips parting, at the desire in every inch of his face as he stared at my apex.

He slid the washcloth under my right inner thigh, coming so close to where I wanted him. Then he did the same on my left leg. My breaths were shallow, and I couldn’t look away.

Finally, finally, he edged the rough cloth along my outer folds, then back, and he brushed my aching clit. I gasped when he dropped the cloth then cupped his hand, letting the water pool in his palm. He rinsed me, pressing his palm into my clit more each time.

By the fourth pass, I was ready to grab a handful of his hair and drag his mouth to me, but he did it first.

His tongue eased along my seam, then his hold on his control snapped. Grabbing my ass, he held me against his wicked mouth, fucking me with his tongue. Delving in, over and over as a delicious pressure built rapidly inside me.

I clutched his hair, taking everything he gave me. I couldn’t think, could barely breathe in the face of this barrage of pleasure. My orgasm burst over me like an avalanche, and I screamed his name as I shuddered against his mouth. He held me there until I finally shoved him away, unable to take another second.

“Greg,” I breathed as he stood up and turned off the water.

He cupped my cheek. “You’re safe now, Rhonda. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

The lingering pain in his eyes dragged across my soul. “I know.” I slid my hand over him, realizing this was healing for both of us, and it was my turn to take care of him.

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