Page 151 of The Outsider

My breath caught as he palmed my breasts hungrily. I wanted everything he did, wanted to possess and be possessed by him, to feel cherished and dirty in equal measure. With a shiver, I dropped my panties, making him sigh, then moved out of his grasp toward the shower. I turned on the showerhead and stepped under it, arching my back to allow the water to flow over my breasts and down my front in a way that was shamelessly erotic.

“Fuck,” John muttered, watching me, and I grinned.

I wet my hair and washed up, massaging my hands in slow, circular motions over my body. I lingered at my breasts, sighing with pleasure as I gently caressed my nipples. The cleft between my thighs grew slick at my own attention and ached with need.

John clearly had enough because he stripped at a speed that made me giggle. He stepped into the shower behind me and pulled me back against him, letting me feel his rigid hardness against the small of my back as he sucked on the sensitive spot in the crook of my neck.

“Are you trying to tempt me into taking you right now, against this wall?” he said in my ear. “Because it’s working.”

I smiled, pleased, and surprised again at the effect I had on him. This strong, brave, surprisingly gentle man adored me, would lay down his life for me. He was the best of us—good and kind and hard-working—and through some tangled twist of fate, he was mine.

I turned to face John and kissed him, throwing my arms around his neck and pushing my tongue into his mouth. He exhaled sharply and pressed me into him, our wet, naked skin sliding together.

“I’m so lucky,” I whispered against his neck, massaging his taut body. “You’re better than anything I ever dared to dream.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” he replied, his gaze tender.

I made a show of soaping him up under the water and he didn’t object, but he groaned a little as I caressed him, obviously pent-up. His skin, browned by the sun, glistened under my attention, and my arousal only increased as I watched sparkling waterdrops drip over his lean, muscular form.

“You’re beautiful,” I sighed, and he grinned.

“Not half so pretty as my blushing bride,” he teased, and predictably, heat rose to my face. I wanted him, and my arousal only increased as I watched him rinse under the showerhead.

I knelt on the tiled floor, and before John had time to react, I wrapped my hand around his shaft. He gasped softly, and I stroked him for a moment before taking him into my mouth. He made a small, strangled sound as I worked him with my tongue and began to suck.

“Your mouth is goddamn perfect,” John groaned. “Christ, Claire.”

The tiled floor was hard against my knees, and my jaw ached a little after a few minutes, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered more to me at that moment than pleasing him. I took him deeper, sucking harder, and he cursed, fisting his hands into my wet hair.

“My filthy girl,” he murmured, and the way he said it made it sound like the sweetest endearment. “This making you wet? Tasting my cock on your knees like this?”

I moaned around him and met his eye before giving a short nod. The ache between my thighs was almost unbearable now.

“Good,” he grunted, panting now. “I want to paint your pretty tits with my come. Make me come, beautiful.”

I coaxed him closer and closer to the edge. His grip on my hair tightened, his groans growing deeper and longer, his hips undulating into my mouth. I wrapped my hand around the base of his shaft and pumped in time with each suck, and I knew he was done for, because he moved to pull out of my mouth with another choked noise.

He gasped my name, then came with a breathless, guttural cry as I stroked him through climax, spilling his seed onto my breasts. I gave a little moan watching him, ever fascinated by the way he lost control. He let out a long breath and relaxed his grip on my hair, softly stroking it.

After a beat, John pulled me to my feet and kissed me. When we broke apart, I quickly rinsed, then turned off the shower.

“Take me to bed, husband,” I said with a smile.

We did a quick, sloppy drying job with a towel before he led me back into our room, clearly growing impatient. A gentle push, and I lay on my back at the edge of the bed, my legs hanging over the edge.

John lowered himself over me, and I wrapped my legs around his hips. He breathed in my ear, and I moaned. More wetness bloomed between my legs, leaking onto my innermost thighs. He fitted his hand to the nape of my neck, lifting my head back to spread slow, open-mouthed kisses down the soft, vulnerable flesh of my throat. His other hand cupped my breast, lightly pinching my nipple and rolling it between his fingertips.

“Please,” I pleaded, grinding up against him. “John.”

“Shh,” he soothed, his mouth still on my skin. “I’ll give you everything you want, baby. I promise. But it’s our wedding night. Let me love you for a while.”

I gasped as he flicked his tongue over my nipple, then licked in slow, torturous circles until he drew it into his mouth. He sucked hard, then gently bit down, teasing me with his teeth while his fingers worked my other nipple. I made high-pitched, desperate noises, beyond self-consciousness. His eyes roved over my nakedness, from my lips to my breasts, and down to where I was already spread wide for him.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to spank me now,” I said breathlessly. “I can’t handle more teasing.”

John grinned and shook his head.

“Tonight will be nothing but pleasure for you,” he murmured as he knelt on the floor beside the bed. “You’ll come for me, again and again, until you can’t stand it. I know you like it when I say you’re mine…but tonight, I want to be yours.”

---