Page 114 of Even Vampires Bleed
The water is blissfully warm—not like the well—and I relax when it starts hitting my shoulders.
I grab the soap and start to lather my skin, giving extra attention to my breasts, because my dumb ass let a ball of clay fall inside my cleavage earlier.
Except it has more effect on my body, and my nipples harden at the attention.
I rinse myself and bring the shower head closer to my skin to tease myself.
I start with my breasts, but soon drive the shower head down until the water pressure is perfectly angled so it hits my clit.
But it’s not enough and a few minutes later, I put the shower head back up and replace it with my fingers.
I make quick circles with my fingers and bring my other hand to my breast.
I imagine my new roommate on his knees in front of me.
Carefully, I raise a foot against the shower wall and imagine I just dropped it on Léandre’s shoulder as I keep rubbing myself.
I don’t turn off the water. I let it glide on my skin and trickle over my breast as my fingers reach a frantic rhythm and I feel all my muscles tense.
If only it could be his tongue instead of my fingers. If only he would grab me and feast on my pussy like a starving man.
I wish I could come on his lips and that’s with that last thought that my whole body reaches its top, and I’m free falling with my orgasm—with Léandre’s name on my tongue.
60
Léandre
By the time I’m done with cutting wood, I can’t feel my arms. I’m tired, and I need a damn shower.
I make my way to the house, and I’m surprised to see clothes on the ground next to the door. They’re covered in filth, and it makes me wonder if someone trespassed or if Cassiopé decided to roll in mud.
Well, as long as she didn’t get inside with all that mud, I don’t care.
I remove my shirt and drop it next to her clothes, walking in the direction of the bedroom.
The door isn’t fully closed, so I open it and enter.
I freeze with my hand on the handle.
Because right in front of me is Cassiopé, naked and in the shower, with one hand toying with her left nipple and the other actively rubbing her clit.
All I can hear is the water dripping down on her body and the moans—her moans.
They’re accompanied by heavy breathing, and as hers grows shallow, mine does, too.
I’m transfixed, mesmerized, and bewitched.
I know I should back away and go back the way I came, especially since she doesn’t seem to realize I’m here.
Her eyes are closed, and she must be close because she looks so focused and her hand reaches a speed I’m not sure I could match.
I wish I was a better man and would walk away.
But I’m stuck where I was when I opened that door, harder than ever, negotiating with my mind on what I need to do.
I should go.
But go away or go help her?
