Page 38 of Dirty Love

“So smooth, Miss Leyton. That’s fucking sexy as hell.” He circles my clit, making me bloom, making me want more, before sliding back again.

He’s totally going to finger my ass, the teasing jerk.

I tilt my hips.Do it, I urge him with my body language.

But he just touches me lightly, circling my clenched hole. Not pressing inside.

“I don’t like to be teased,” I mutter.

“Then it’s too bad you told me I could do whatever I wanted, isn’t it?” He drops his hand into the warm water, splashing it against the inside of my thighs.

His next touch is against my pussy again, a finger dipping inside me, then dragging my wetness over my folds.

He turns his hand so his thumb can press into me from behind, and still I hold steady.

Again, this isn’t how I have sex.

I’m restless to move, to fuck back against his hand. To get my self off, to use him.

Taking what he wants to give me and nothing more is foreign. Uncomfortable. Hot, though.

Definitely hot.

The restlessness moves inside me, pushing at the inside of skin. It cues a sharp awareness of his touch, my reaction. The feel of his hand and the sounds we’re both making.

My sighs and his groans as he sinks further into me, stretching me out.

“You like that.”

I do. “You like it, too.”

“I love it.” He stretches his fingers inside my pussy. “Hot little cunt.” His thumb flexes, too. “Tight little ass.”

“Ah, yes…” I give in and roll my hips, but his other hand shoots out, his forearm wrapping around me as he pulls me back against him.

“Naughty girl.”

“Punish me?”

“Not a punishment if you’re begging for it.” He eases his fingers out of me. “I think you’re clean enough, now.” He presses his face into my neck, and this close, I can tell his breaths aren’t as controlled as I thought they were. “Time to rinse off.”

Wilson doesn’t pull the shower curtain closed. Instead, he leans back against the counter and watches me from behind hooded eyelids, his fists white-knuckled in the towel he’s holding.

The second I turn off the water, he’s picking me up. Fluffy cotton and strong arms surround me as he carries me back to the bed.

“At some point we’re going to need to discuss the fact that my legs do in fact work,” I say over a bubbly laugh that sounds nothing like me.

“Hmm. Do they?” He dumps me out of his arms and I bounce on the mattress. “Let me check.”

He picks up one of my feet and rests it against his dress shirt. Naked girl, fully-dressed man. It’s dirty and wrong. I love it. I wiggle my toes as he dries my leg with the towel. I leave wet toe-prints on his shirt as I walk my foot down his perfect torso.

“You work out.”

“Nix does.” He picks up my other leg and casually pushes the first one down and out, making me spread myself for him.

“Who is Nix?”

“A street fighter.”

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