#whooooooooops

How could you say no? Especially with the way John’s gaze seems to be devouring you whole right now, warming you up in a way that has nothing to do with the bath water. You nod and try very hard not to watch as John undresses, tossing his clothes in the corner. Before long, he’s stepping into the bathtub and settling behind you. With a gentle but firm grasp, John pulls you by the hips to his chest and you recline into his embrace.

“So beautiful,” he growls, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You shudder at the feeling of John’s lips brushing against your skin and your head tips back involuntarily as his mouth travels up to your jaw.

“John...”

A calloused hand traces its way up from your hip to your breasts, pinching one of your nipples and then moving to the next. Your rosy buds harden into peaks under his touch and each tug at them sends a tingle of electricity to your core. John’s other hand is sliding, sliding down to cup your warmth—and then he’s stroking your folds and you arch against his chest.

“Now, tell me.” John nuzzles at the column of your throat. “Is it the bath, or are you wet for me?”

“‘m wet for you, Johnny, ah—all for you.”

“Good girl,” he says, and curls a finger into your cunt. His thumb just barely brushes over your clit and you jerk, whining at the waves of arousal washing through you. It’s not enough, you want more, and John seems to know this because he adds another finger and starts finger-fucking you in earnest now.

“Wait, wait—“ you gasp, and he immediately stills.

“What’s wrong, birdie?”

You crane your neck back and capture John’s lips with yours. The position is a little awkward, but when his tongue swipes into your mouth nothing else matters.

“Wanna come around your cock,” you say, pulling back and blinking up at him, and John groans at your words. You grind against his erection that’s been digging into your back and his fingers tighten around your waist.

“Fuck, yeah, okay.”

You turn in the bath, sending a prayer of thanks that John had insisted on getting such a large one, and straddle your legs on either side of his. Your hand reaches into the water and grasps his length and it’s John’s turn to whine, head falling back onto the tiled wall at the feeling of your fingers stroking him. It’s so... wet in the water, and you’re able to move your wrist with a smoothness that sends curses tumbling out of John’s mouth.

“You gonna stop teasin’ me?” he grits out, feeling his orgasm coming on far too quickly as you thumb over his red tip.

“’s only cause you did it to me,” you say, and then you’re sinking onto his cock. The both of you groan at the wet drag of his length against your walls, and when John bottoms out you take a moment to rest your head against his chest.

John brings a hand up to brush away some of the hair sticking to your face. You’re both sweating already because of the warm bath water, and John brushes his lips against your damp forehead.

“Good?” he asks. You grind your hips down onto him in response, which sends a shudder through his body.

Encouraged by John’s reaction, you brace yourself against his shoulders and lift up until his cock is almost entirely out of your cunt—and then sink down in one smooth motion. You set a hard, fast pace—as fast as you can in the water, anyway—and soon John’s canting his hips up to meet yours and hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. Your moans, high and breathy, are echoing off the bathroom walls, accompanied by John’s grunts and sighs at the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him.

“Fuck, I’m getting close,” he gasps, and you rock your hips even faster, desperate to get your own release as well.

John suddenly digs his fingers into your back as his other hand reaches up to rub sloppy circles around your clit and the combination of the pleasure and the pain has you screaming out. You drive your hips down, hard, and then you’re both coming, names rolling off each other’s lips like prayers.

It takes a minute for you to come down from your high. When you do, John’s running a hand down your back, soothing the scratches he’d made. He hugs you to his chest and, for a little bit, it’s a moment that belongs to you two and nothing else in the world. Even the water lapping gently at your skin fades away into just a soft tingling at the edges of your conscience.  Your senses narrow down to the feeling of John’s fingers pressing softly against your spine, John’s nose nudging at your ear, John’s breath fluttering against your jaw, John’s heart beating steadily on your breast, John, John,

“John,” you sigh, and his lips curve into a smile, tickling your neck. He shifts and slips out of you and that feeling is what brings you out of your reverie.

He repeats your name to you, this time soft and reverent and without the urgency of earlier.

“My gorgeous girl,” John murmurs. The smile that spreads across your face at his compliment only serves to further the beauty about you. John thinks this to himself and, not for the first time, wonders just how he managed to find someone like you.

“We ought to take a shower now.”

“What do you mean?” John quirks his eyebrows. “We’re already in the bath.”

“Yeah, but… we’re not exactly clean, are we?”

John considers this for a moment and then, leaning forward, licks a stripe right between the valley of your breasts. You squeal and bat at his shoulders.

“Tastes pretty clean to me,” he says with that stupid, cheeky smile that never fails to make you weak in the knees. You swat at him again and John snickers, ducking out of the way, the motion sending a wave of water over the edge of the tub.

“Now we’ve got to clean that too! John, you’re being a right menace—hEY!”

You gape at John, furiously trying to blink away the water he’d splashed into your face. There’s a beat of silence where the two of you just stare at each other, John holding in a horrific snort and you a scream. Suddenly, a wicked idea forms in your head.

“Oh, John.” You run a slow hand up his chest. When your palm comes to cup John’s cheek, his expression is so obviously torn between confusion and arousal that you almost laugh. “I forgive you, Johnny.”

“Oh, erm… okay.” His eyes dart between yours and the thumb that’s now tracing looping patterns across his collarbones. He’d been expecting retaliation of some sort. “Thanks?”

You smile your sweetest smile and John’s breath hitches when you lean in to place a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw. He doesn’t even notice that your other hand has come up to his shoulder.

“Might wanna hold your breath,” you say, and the question doesn’t even finish forming on John’s lips before you’re pushing him underwater. When he surfaces, cursing and spluttering, the fight is on.