Page 57 of Crow

I don’t know how to get what I want, but when I arch my back and my nipples brush against his arm, I immediately do it again. The sensation of my fiery skin meeting his muscled hardness, sends a blinding jolt through me that leaves me panting against his lips.

I try to edge closer to him, but he pins me to the shower with one strong hand, his fingers splayed against my belly. He has me just about perfectly contained, but I free one hand and reach around, stroking the side of his steel abs, angling just enough to grasp a handful of his rock hard ass. It’s mostly fabric that I grab, but not all.

Unable to stop himself, he drives his hips forward, the length of his hard cock mashing into my stomach and his hand.

I don’t remember getting married to him, but I do remember before. Snippets of after we got back to the room. I remember the sharp taste of him, the salt of his come on my tongue, how my pussy wept, leaking down my thighs, how much I loved having him in my mouth, but how I ached to have him between my legs, the hot jets of his come filling me to overflowing.

“I want you inside of me,” I whimper, nearly biting him again.

He tears his mouth away and stares down at me, so dark and unfathomable.

“Not like this.”

“Yes, like this.” I try and lift my leg, edging it up to wrap it around his waist. He’s slick and all I manage to do is climb his calf with my toes before they slip away.

He releases me and drops down to his knees, the shower spray half soaking his face. He looks up at me through starred lashes and my heart crashes down into my stomach. He’s so tall that even on his knees, he only has to tilt his face to be able to latch onto my nipple. His mouth is a thousand times hotter than the shower. His tongue is glorious as it laps at the stiff bud, sending lightning jolts and painful static arcing furiously through my body. All the electricity gathers between my legs. I grind my thighs together, but the pressure doesn’t ease.

I try to squirm away and buck closer at the same time.

He bites down suddenly. Not hard, but enough that the jolt roars through me like I’ve wrapped my hand around a livewire and the electricity won’t release me. The heat spikes at the sweet sting, ebbs as his tongue flows over it. I’m so wet and slickbetween my legs, so empty and demanding, a new, desperate level of hunger rearing its head.

My brain short circuits as he trails his lips down, kissing me with tender, blazing kisses down my stomach. His hand skates up my thigh, fingers grazing the tender skin.

My stomach cramps and flutters madly when he kisses over my smooth mound. I’m not drunk this time. The lights should feel scalding. I should be nervous or embarrassed, shouldn’t I, that he’s down there, eye level with the most intimate part of me, and I’m so wet that I can feel the moisture smeared down my thighs?

I have no desire to hide. Not when he parts my legs with his hand, arranging me so he can reach me with his mouth. Not when he inhales deeply, a little grunt of primal satisfaction torn from his throat. Not when he surges forward, diving into me like I’m the only thing that can bring him relief, licking me from my clit to my entrance.

“Fuck,” he sighs on a growl that sounds both hungry and immediately sated. “Fuck, you’re sweet.”

I grasp his wet hair as he latches his mouth to me, sucking and licking my clit until my legs are shaking, though it only takes a moment. I spread my legs wider for him, letting him pin me to the wall, balancing on his shoulders so that I don’t fall over, gripping his hair so hard it has to hurt. The pleasure roars through me, shredding my limbs and echoing in my ears like wind screaming through a tunnel.

I used to wonder what this would feel like. When I rode the showerhead, I thought it would be good, but I had no idea.

Crow’s fingers are the first thing that’s ever been inside of me other than well—medical stuff. The medical stuff sucked. His two fingers are thick at my entrance, two of them doubled together. He pauses there, swirling them around me, stretching me open, but just a fraction. His tongue does something sinful to my clit that makes me open mouth pant.

I’m half gone when he stops. He turns me around, guiding me so that the spray hits me again, water gliding over goosebumps on my arms, over my peaked nipples.

I turn my face to the spray and open my mouth, letting the water fill it and trickle over, down my lips and chin.

Crow watches me intently. I swallow the rest of the water—pointedly—and watch his face harden as he struggles to keep control. I don’t know how to describe what that does to me.

Another snippet of last night rocks through my brain. I’m sure my face is scarlet. I don’t know if he remembers somewhere, what I wanted, but my body goes into riot mode, in a good way, when he runs his fingers up my ass crack.

“I want to taste you here. Want to have my cock here one day too. There isn’t a part of you that I don’t want to devour.”

“Are you sure?” I crank my head over my shoulder again, sassing him. “We’re not drunk right now.”

“I’m sure,wife.”

Fuck. There’s that. But the way he says that word, half with a great deal of sarcasm and half with wonder and want so strong that it makes his voice gravelly.

I plant my hands on the shower glass and wriggle my hips. I don’t even know who I am right now, but I’m rewarded withCrow’s strong palms pressing into my ass cheeks, opening me up for him.

He reaches between my legs, his fingers slipping through my wetness, straight to my clit. I expect a tentative lick. The whole,shit, I’m not sure if I’m going to like this, so I should probably test the water before I dive indeal, but there’s no testing. He tongues my tight hole, pressing into me. He works my clit in little circles that builds a heavy, delirious weight in my limbs.

It’s good, but it’s not as good as I thought it would be.

Crow’s patient, but I think he can tell.

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