Page 43 of Caught Looking

No one had ever spoken to me the way he did. I could barely get most lovers to speak at all. But Seth used his words the same way he used his hands and his tongue. They were foreplay.

But they were also confessions. I liked that he told me exactly what he wanted. That he didn’t use flowery language or euphemisms. He wielded words likecockandpussybecause they were primal. There was no mistaking them for something else. When Seth used those words—when he asked me to use them—it was about pure carnal sex.

He flicked off the faucet as he stood, his eyes dark and locked on mine. But he didn’t move.

“What? Aren’t you going to fuck me right here against the tiles?”

Mischief danced in his eyes as he pressed a kiss against my lips and then swept his tongue inside, letting me taste what he’d just done to me. “Not yet. Shower sex is expert level and we’re just getting started.” Then he wrapped his muscular arm around me, guiding me out of the shower and to the towels.

I tried to squeeze as much water out of my hair as I could but there was only so much I could do. I had thick hair that took forever to dry. Not that it mattered when we’d be scorching the sheets in a few minutes.

To my relief Seth opened a drawer and pulled out a handful of condoms. The last thing I wanted to do was hash out specifics when we were already two orgasms deep. Well, two for me.

He ditched his towel, striding gorgeously naked into his bedroom. Everything about Seth was masculine. And big. Shoulders and arms built and honed in the gym, on the field, and in the batting cages. Legs for running in short bursts of incredible power. His chest and abs were carved and cut.

But the part of him that had me in a slight panic, gulping like it was my first damn time, currently throbbed as he dropped that handful of condoms on the nightstand. Holy shit he was big. Long and thick. In the shower he’d done the most erotic thing. He’d stroked himself with one hand and me with the other. It gave me the chance to imagine how he’d feel inside me. How carefully he’d fuck me.

Before that I was worried he’d be annoyed or not understand. But that simple, sexy gesture erased my worry. Then he turned me on in a whole new way as he moaned against me and I saw the excitement, the need in his eyes, how his cock twitched in his hand asheimagined being insideme, knowing just how perfectly we’d fit together.

I watched as he moved my bag to the loveseat by his balcony. His perfect ass flexing, his biceps bulging. Just looking at him made my core throb with need.

I’d never felt that.Need.Ineededhim inside me. Over me. Gazing up at me as I rode him. I needed him to hold me, put his fingers through my hair, and let me feel safe.

My one-night stands had served a sole purpose: relief. My past relationships, with the exception of Owen, had been comfortable. Nice. I enjoyed sex, loved cuddling, but I neveryearned. Never ached when they were gone.

I never stopped thinking about Seth. He was always there in the back of my mind. My skin buzzed constantly to be touched by him. Anytime he was near I wanted him.

Seth Butler had already ruined me for other men.

He moved fast. One minute he was by the bed and the next he was in front of me, one arm around my waist, the other cupping my cheek. I clutched at his shoulders as my world began to spin. He had the most dizzying effect on me. The closer he got the less I knew which way was up or down.

“Kiss me,” he commanded.

I rose up on my toes and pressed my lips to his. It sent a zing through me and relaxed him. He took a deep breath and sighed it out slowly, his tense shoulders dropping, his fingers roaming.

The shower had been nice for acquainting each other with our bodies. It took some of the edge off. But the need pulsing between us was too intense. It made us both frantic. “Bed,” I managed to say between kisses.

He nodded, lifting me slightly, not breaking our kiss. He laid me out, moving carefully over me so he didn’t crush me. I opened my legs, cradling him against my hips. That thick cock of his rutted against my belly.

“Touch,” he growled.

Apparently we were one-word-command lovers in bed. I restarted my exploration of his skin. His back muscles were a thing of beauty. They bunched and strained as he moved over me.

I cried out when he pinched a nipple.

“Less?” he asked. His eyes were dark, assessing. Taking in every bit of information while barely hanging onto his control by a thread.

“Yes.”

He soothed it, then pinched lighter, rolling it, sending a matching curl down through my core. I rolled my hips up to meet his, mimicking the way it made me feel.

“Babe,” he groaned. “I don’t want to rush this.”

“Need you.” I grabbed his ass and ground my clit against his hard shaft. He might have some sort of super control but I didn’t. Not with the way he’d played my body, had it so ready that I ached from the emptiness.

“Fuck. So much for taking more time.” He ground the words out but there was a wide grin on his face when he kneed up and reached for a condom. We were both tested constantly because of our professions and we’d already both confessed it had been a while since we’d had sex with anyone. So I didn’t feel the need to clear the air.

While he rolled on the condom I circled my clit, keeping me right on the edge of another orgasm. The first had been nice. A relief. The second relaxed me. But I wanted the kind of orgasm that made me see stars.

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