Page 11 of Sugar Free (Sugar Bowl 3)

By the time the washcloth hits Beck's abs, he's trying to wash me as well, his hands coming to my body in a natural way that can't be helped. He's never been one to sit back and let me just do things to him. He always wants to be touching me, focusing on my sensations first, his second.

I bat his hands away, telling him to be still and let me finish. He responds with a slight growl, makes an attempt to drop his hands by his sides, but when my washcloth hits his ass, they come back up again. Granted, they merely rest on my shoulders, his thumbs stroking my wet skin, but they don't make any further move so I let them stay.

Because as long as his hands are being good, I can concentrate on my task.

I bring the soapy cloth back around front, across his hip and over his lower abs, pushing upward to get his chest a second time. Only because I love his chest so much. It's a fabulous chest, well defined with a smattering of hair in the center. It's also clean and doesn't need my attention anymore, but I can't help it. I love touching Beck.

Ultimately, my mistake is when I lift my face to take a peek at his. I find him staring down at me with the most intense look I've ever seen. Blue eyes flashing at me like a blinking neon sign that's advertising his emotions.

Love.

Lust.

Protectiveness.

Vulnerability.

Yes...that last one. Him looking vulnerable.

That gets me.

My eyes drop back down to the washcloth and I try to speak, but my voice is raspy with emotion. I cough and try to go for a light, casual tone so he doesn't see just how much a single look from him can move me so deeply. "Thank you for what you did for me today."

With lightning speed, Beck's hand is under my chin, tilting my face up again. Same flashing signs of emotion in those ocean-blue eyes, but a new urgency there. "There isn't anything I won't do for you, Sela."

"I know," I whisper back to him, slowly moving the cloth from his chest down his stomach.

"I'll do anything to ensure you never go down for that--"

"I'll do the same. I'll never let you go down either."

He smiles at me...a bit amused at my proclamation because it impedes on his white-knight territory. "Neither one of us is going down. How 'bout that?"

"I can live with that," I breathe out.

"Good," he says, his eyes now lighting up with a different kind of look. One that makes my knees go weak. "Now how about dropping that washcloth and using your hands on me."

I arch an eyebrow at him but drop the cloth to the tiled floor, where it lands with a wet splat. I take his semi-hard cock in my hand and give him a squeeze. "Like this?"

His eyes close and he licks his lower lip. "Just like that."

My other hand cups his balls, rolling them around and then running my finger along the delicate skin behind them. "How about this?"

He groans. "Yeah...that's good too."

"Bet my mouth would be better," I observe as I stroke his slick skin until he's fully hard in my hand.

"So much better," he agrees in a guttural voice.

I release him, bring my hands to his waist, and turn him toward the shower bench. He blinks in surprise but lets me push him down until he's sitting and I step in between his legs.

"But first," I say with a playful smile as I reach for the shampoo, "let's get your hair washed."

"You know it's dangerous to tease me like that, Sela," he warns, and the dark promise in his voice causes a tremor to run up my spine.

I shrug like I don't care, but I do.

I so care that he's beyond turned on by me.

I care so much about this man that I want us to consume each other completely.

Holding the shampoo bottle in one hand and the other going to his shoulder for leverage, I haul myself onto him to straddle his lap. His straining cock bumps between my legs and I let out a quavering breath that simple, inadvertent touch causes.

Beck's hands come to my hips but he doesn't try to push me down onto him. He merely holds me steady while I flip the top open from the shampoo and pour a small amount into my hand. The bottle drops to the bench and then my hands are in Beck's wet hair, my fingers massaging his scalp and working up a lather.

I know it feels good to him because he gives a rumbling sound of appreciation in his chest and his head falls forward until his face is pressed into my neck. I feel his mouth open and suck against me lightly, his fingers digging into the flesh at my hips.

"That feels so good, Sela," he murmurs as I go a little rougher in my ministrations, hoping to work out some stress and tension for him. But then he pushes down on me slightly and raises his hips; that amazingly large and hard shaft rubs right against my pussy and reminds me of my earlier intention to suck Beck off.

Reaching up, I grab the hand shower, flipping the tiny valve at the base that will let water through.

"Let's get your hair rinsed," I tell him as I gently wave the shower wand over his head while he tilts it back. As the soap runs free, and then clear, I tell him with brazen promise in my voice, "I'm going to give you a blow job that will make your eyes cross."

"Uh-uh," he says with a shake of his head and a wicked gleam in hi

s gaze as he takes the wand from me, lowering it until the hose is stretched fully before releasing it. "That's just not going to work for me."

I start to ask why not, because hello, I've gotten really good at my blow jobs, but then he's reaching between us and bringing the head of his cock right to my center. My hips involuntarily rotate, dragging him into me slowly.

"That's it," he encourages me in a low voice, his hands now back to my hips. "I want you to fuck me, Sela. And do it slow, okay?"

"Okay," I practically wheeze out, because not only is the feeling of him just inside of me--just waiting for me to fully impale myself--incredibly intense, but the way in which he's giving me some control is almost too much to bear.

Beck is always the one driving when we're fucking. Always the one in control. Always the one who determines the pace and the position.

It's something I've never minded because I adore him being in control. It makes me feel immensely cherished and it's a huge turn-on to know that he's so confident in his skills that I would never want to ever give that up.

I slide my hands from his shoulders, up the sides of his neck, and then cup his face. I press my mouth to his and kiss him briefly before pulling back. Placing my forehead against his, I take a breath in, hold it, and then drop my body so I can take him all the way into me.

Inch by delicious inch, I slowly sink onto his cock, feeling the stretch and tiny sting that always comes because of his size but quickly melts away into the most exquisite of pleasures my body has ever felt.

When he's buried as deep as I can take him--that point where the head of his cock presses almost uncomfortably against that magical place inside of me--I give him another quick kiss before I start to move.

While Beck has commanded that I fuck him and do so slowly, he ends up using his hands on my hips to help guide me along. He does indeed let me raise and lower with sweet leisure, but after a few moments, he forces me to go a little faster. I try to push against the deep thrusts he's demanding because that very magical place inside of me is super sensitive to Beck's dick and will have me screaming like a banshee in no time.

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