Page 30 of Wren's Winter

He grabbed one leg and placed it over his shoulder, and his fingers parted me, delving between my folds.

“I told you I can’t come that way.”

He smirked at me, his finger running over my seam. “What do you want to bet I can make you come all over my tongue in five minutes?”

“What do I get if I win?” I asked, my words shaky as he slipped a finger inside me.

“If I win, you go out to dinner with me tonight—my treat.”

“And if I win?”

Another finger plunged into me, hitting that spot he found earlier. My knees buckled beneath me, but his grip was enough to keep me steady. “I try again until I get it right.” Then his mouth was on the center of me. Licking and sucking at my clit. With each stroke, he promised me more and meant to use every second on his knees before me.

I slapped the wall, trying to find purchase on the tiles. My legs losing their strength under me. Sparks shot through my body as his tongue swirled over my sensitive flesh. His hands gripped my hips hard enough that it stung. It was as if he were a starving man and I was his feast.

“Your pussy is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Stars formed behind my eyes as his mouth sucked and licked and prodded at me, driving me closer. He hummed against my clit and between the sound of satisfaction in his voice and the vibration. I was losing all control. My hands in his hair, I held his face tighter to me. My cries echoed in the small bathroom as his mouth took me over.

I was going to lose this bet, and I couldn’t be happier for it. Light, sound, and sense escaped me as I threw my head back, crying out his name. My entire body was tingling from the orgasm.

As I came down, my body slumped against the wall.

Carefully lowering my leg to the ground, he grinned up at me. “I win.”

“This time.” I quipped as I opened my eyes to glance down at him. He was studying my body with a frown.

“I hurt you.” He pressed a kiss to my hip bone, where his fingers had dug so tightly. He repeated this on the other side. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I liked it.” Grabbing his arm, I pulled him up to stand in front of me. “I wanted it.”

“I’ve never been like that before. You make me lose all control.”

Gripping the back of his neck, my lips met his. The kiss was fierce. Matching his words with my own emotions, I wrapped my arms around his waist. His cock standing at attention against my stomach. I had never been this woman before: wanton, confident, and deeply desired. But with Adrian, I held onto the power in his gaze, and I needed more.

“Me too,” I whispered against his mouth before I pushed him back against the cold tile and slid to my knees in front of him. Taking his cock in my hand, I stroked down the length of him, the water serving as lubricant.

“You don’t have to…” he gritted out as I licked the tip, the water and pre-cum mingling on my tongue. I never enjoyed giving blow jobs before, a warm-up to get the guy hard before we’d have missionary sex on his bed. But everything with Adrian was new and exciting. I wanted his taste on my tongue, to see the tendons in his neck bulge as I swirled around his tip. His low grunts potent, urging me to take him deeper in my mouth.

His hand strayed to my hair, bunching his fist and pulling my head back. “I want to come on your tits.”

His hand over mine, he showed me how he wanted me, how he liked to be touched. Wrapping my hand around his length, I followed his lead. One hand still in my hair, he held my face up to his. His thumb strayed from behind my ear to the top of my throat, pressing down as he groaned loudly. Hot streams of cum jet onto my chest, mingling with the water to drip over my breasts. I glanced down, running a finger over a spot and bringing it up to my mouth.

Hauling me up onto my feet, his mouth came crashing against mine. His lips were firm on mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. He tasted of me. The slick heat of water and sweat between us. He pulled away. We watched as his hands smeared his cum into my skin. “Beautiful.” His thumb grazed over my nipple.

My clit throbbed again. How was it not tired yet? He leaned down, resting his forehead against mine.

The water beat over us as we held each other. “As much as I’d like to stay here in the shower with you, the water heater is old, and we have about two minutes before it’s turning icy on us.” He motioned for me to step back into the water. “Rinse off, and I’ll go next. I don’t want you getting cold again.”

A tightness clenched in my chest at his offer. I knew it wasn’t a big offer, similar to opening the door for me or helping me out of his truck. But it was a foreign notion.

Once out of the shower, I wrapped one of the oversized towels around my body. Through the frosted glass, I could see his outline. His hands scrubbing over his face, and his lean torso arcing back to rinse off. The male form was never something I gave a lot of thought to. While my friends would send each other pictures of shirtless celebrities and giggle at their muscles, I was never all that interested in ogling men. Adrian was my exception. I could have stood there, watching him under the spray of the water for a long time.

He yelped, reaching forward and jerking the faucet handle to the right until the water shut off. The top of the towel gripped tight in my hand. I stepped back, handing him the other towel as he stepped out. He gave me a grin before leaning forward and drying his hair first, with no shame in his nakedness. Why was I shy all of a sudden? He came on my chest only a few minutes before, and now, I was holding onto this towel as if it would protect me.

Damn, what was I going to wear now? The shower was more foreplay than for cleaning, but there was no way I was getting back into my muddy clothes now.

As he wrapped his towel around his waist, he took in my expression. “You okay?”

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