I peek up at him, and he regards me with hooded eyes and sensual longing. Hmm … I like this look. I drop the sponge and use my hands, grasping him firmly. He closes his eyes, tips his head back, and groans, thrusting his hips into my hands.
Oh yes! It’s so arousing. My inner goddess has resurfaced after her evening of rocking and weeping in the corner, and she’s wearing harlot-red lipstick.
His burning eyes suddenly lock with mine. He’s remembered something.
“It’s Saturday,” he exclaims, eyes alight with salacious wonder, and he grasps my waist, pulling me to him and kissing me savagely.
Whoa—change of pace!
His hands sweep down my slick, wet body, round to my sex, his fingers exploring, teasing, and his mouth is relentless, leaving me breathless. His other hand is in my wet hair, holding me in place while I bear the full force of his passion unleashed. His fingers move inside me.
“Ahh,” I moan into his mouth.
“Yes,” he hisses and lifts me, his hands beneath my backside. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.” My legs fold around him, and I cling like a limpet to his neck. He braces me against the wall of the shower and pauses, gazing down at me.
“Eyes open,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”
I blink up at him, my heart hammering, my blood pulsing hot and heavy through my body, desire, real and rampant surging through me. Then he eases into me oh-so-slowly, filling me, claiming me, skin against skin. I push down against him and groan loudly. Once fully inside me, he pauses once more, his face strained, intense.
“You are mine, Anastasia,” he whispers.
“Always.”
gummygunk
vaporwave
turnnoffyourmind
andulkaphoto
blakekathryn
izzy806
stormborns
theartofmadeline
