Page 99 of Fixation
The back of her head, where her muscles are the tightest, that’s where I spend more time.
Harper’s groan has a way of messing with my sanity. Every part of me works hard not to fuck every one of her holes.
“Seriously.” Her demand pulls me back to the present moment. “What was that look? What’s this? This…shower?”
“What I’m doing is taking care of you before you leave.” I brush her hair behind her back, squeezing her brand of conditioner into my palm. “I’m here to help you. You’ve been lying in bed for over four days.”
Reaching behind her to massage the conditioner into her long hair is as sensual as being inside her pussy. Her nipples graze my chest as her breath tickles my collarbone.
I ignore it.
As much as any obsessed man could.
“Is that what this is?” Her voice has a small lilt to it. “Just you taking care of me? As a patient?”
She’s a confident, successful woman.
Yet a few days with me and she’s turned timid.
She’s begging for more of me in that sweet way of hers.
“Sending you home to shower by yourself would’ve been reckless.” I’m surprised by how calm I manage to sound. “Your blood pressure could’ve dropped. You could’ve passed out. Consider this your last checkup before I let you leave.”
While she thinks about what I said with her eyes closed, I soap the rest of her body. One of my arms remains firm around her waist as I explore her skin with my fingers, not the washcloth.
Her lovely collarbone, her slender shoulders. These breasts that fit into my palm.
Harper wakes for me, goosebumps prickling her sensitive skin wherever I touch.
Breathing, thinking, and concentrating are a hardship.
I’m addicted to her responsive body. The seductive curves of hers.
Mesmerized, I run my fingertips over her waist. Treasuring her hips.
I’m getting off on the sound of her breath hitching. My cock presses into her stomach, jerking against it.
I pull back, and precum wet the head of my throbbing length when she huffs in frustration. I’m aching all over when she’s quick to grab my shoulders with one hand.
Arousal bleeds from her eyes once mine are back on her face.
She says nothing.
Neither do I.
My hand rubs cool soap on her ass, making her whimper. Making her shudder at the feel of our bodies pressed together.
I want her like a dying man wants time.
“Okay.” She strokes my shoulder, and my broken soul reaches out to her. “Let’s say then, for argument’s sake…”
“Go on.” I put some space between us so I can slide two fingers in her cunt. So I can stroke and take care of her.
Her clenching thighs make it hard to focus.
I make do. I have to claw my way into her head. Her psyche. Ruin her for all other men. Put her back together in a way she might not want, but need.
When she’s quiet, I drag my fingers out of her.
