He dropped to his knees and used one hand to part her legs, and she shivered with the realization of what was coming. “I want to taste this sweet pussy,” he said, then sank his tongue eagerly into her slit.
“Unh!” she cried as the pleasure shot through her.
He licked her again, and again, tongue and mouth eagerly working at her folds.
“Oh God, yes,” she whispered, “yes,” because if she’d thought Braden’s hands were skilled . . . well, his tongue almost put them to shame. He lapped deeply at her most intimate flesh before capturing her engorged clit between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Her hands clutched at his head, and when she found the strength to glance down, he was peering heatedly up at her. “So good,” she told him, her legs rapidly weakening beneath her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been eaten while standing up before.
Soon, he ran his tongue in languid circles around the hot little nub of flesh, almost as if he were French-kissing it, and Laura thought she’d collapse from the pure pleasure. She heard her breath coming heavier, felt her body nearing that crucial apex, gave one more thought to how mind-blowing it was that she had this man in this shower in this mountainside home so far away from her own, then tumbled into utter ecstasy. She cried out as the heat streamed down along with the water, the spasms making her clutch at his shoulders as they washed through her. “Oh God, baby, oh God!”
And then she was collapsing, her knees gently giving way—but Braden eased her down onto the marble floor, her legs bent in front of her.
Their eyes locked. His shone glassy. She was still busy trying to catch her breath, but she lifted her hands to his face and kissed him hard, thrusting her tongue between his lips. She shouldn’t have been surprised to taste herself there, but she was—at once slightly put off but also aroused, deeply.
“I want you in my mouth,” she said. She’d never felt hungrier in her life.
He only grunted in reply, clearly excited, and she said, still breathless, “Stand up.”
Laura had never really minded going down on a guy as part of foreplay, but this was different. For the first time in her life, she truly wanted it. Had to have it. Had to have Braden’s cock in her mouth.
He pushed to his feet, his eyes wild with anticipation now, and Laura moved to her knees. The water no longer hit either of them, but Braden’s perfect shaft stood wetly at attention. She didn’t hesitate to drag one long, slow lick from the base to the head, relishing how rock-hard he felt on her tongue. He moaned, his fingertips gently stroking her cheeks as he peered down at her.
Biting her lower lip, she looked back at him for a moment, but then dropped her gaze to the task before her. Curling one hand warmly around his glistening length, she slid her tongue around the head, lightly tasting the semen gathered there, then sank her mouth over him.
She held steady, testing, weighing—could she do this? Could she handle something so enormous in her mouth? Certainly, she couldn’t take all of it—a physical impossibility—but she wanted to pleasure him as deeply as possible, so that meant swallowing as much of him as possible.
She lowered her lips, letting the thickness of him stretch her mouth, fill her. Above her, he moaned, and it encouraged her to take more, a little more, and then even a little more.
His breath rained down heavy, labored, and he whispered, “Baby . . . oh baby . . . so fucking good . . . so deep . . . so deep.”
Maybe other women didn’t try this hard, and it pleased her immensely that he thought her a skilled lover. It also persuaded her to press herself a bit farther, until the tip of his cock touched the back of her throat. She worked hard to relax the muscles there—and then she began to move. Up and down. Taking him in and out. Never as deep as that first, slow, still descent, yet as far as she comfortably could, continuing to push herself with each stroke.
“Oh yeah, honey, suck me. Suck my cock. You suck it so good.”
She’d never particularly enjoyed such talk before, but from Braden she did. Perhaps since they’d met through sex, since everything they’d shared was about sex, it made it okay for this to be about nothing more than animal impulses, carnal desires, raw, unadorned, and dirty. She’d never known dirty could be so good.
She continued working over his erection, caressing his balls with her hand, listening to his sounds of hot delight from above. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so energetic, so unfettered, free to follow urges without worrying what anyone would think or how she would feel afterward. Her experiences with Braden and the webcam had been a difficult initiation to such feelings, but knowing it had brought her here made it worthwhile.
“Baby,” he growled lowly, his hands in her hair. “Baby, stop now.”
When she ignored him, he gently lifted her head until she was forced to release him. She peered up, wondering why he’d stopped her, and wondering if her lips looked as stretched and swollen as they felt.
“I don’t want to come yet,” he said, his voice dark with passion. “I want to lick your hot little cunt again.”
She felt her face flush with heat. “But I already came. So good,” she said, remembering the force of the orgasm. “I want to make you come now.”
But above her, Braden simply shook his head, silently reminding her that he was calling the shots here, and that she’d agreed to let him do so.
“I want to lick you again,” he repeated, “because this time it’s going to be different.”
She blinked up at him. “Different how?”
“I want to really see your cunt, honey. Want to really feel it. I want you to shave your pussy for me, Laura.”
Laura swallowed, hard.
She knew some women did that—women in porn magazines, and in the erotic story she’d read the other night. But she’d certainly never thought about doing it herself. Something about it seemed . . . beyond risqué. But then again, everything about this trip had gone beyond risqué, days ago.
She pushed slowly to her feet, finally forgetting about his cock for a minute, so that they were face to face. “It would be more arousing to you . . . bare?”
He gave a short, simple nod. “I want to see all of you.”
She tried to swallow back the various sorts of nervousness suddenly striking her. “I’ve never . . . shaved there before.”
“Then you’d better be careful,” he said, voice deep, commanding. He stepped up close to her and slipped his hand between her legs to cup her. “I want you to be as slick and smooth as a peeled peach.”
Laura drew in a deep, fortifying breath. Part of her was scared to death. But she tried to tell herself that was the old, conservative her—not the new, wild, sensual her that Braden had unleashed.
“Wh-where should I . . . ?” she began brokenly.
He pointed toward the marble bench. Two disposable razors and a can of shaving cream sat in the corner. She’d noticed the small mirror near the nozzle, and that Braden had left for skiing this morning clean-shaven, so obviously he shaved in the shower.
As she walked toward the built-in bench, situated at the opposite end from the flow of water, she asked herself if she could really make herself do this. The last time she’d asked that question had been right before she’d used the vibrator for him. In comparison, this actually seemed . . . not as extreme.
She tried to approach it practically. She lifted one leg up beside her on the bench, knee bent—although as she did it, it was impossible not to be aware that she was putting her pussy fully on display. Braden stood at the other end of the shower, water streaming over his back, watching.
Spraying shaving cream into her hand, she smoothed it over the flesh between her thighs. She drew in her breath at the light flutter that wafted through her, then took up one of the plastic razors and cautiously began to swipe the hair away. The sensation of moving the razor over such a sensitive area while Braden watched added to her growing arousal. Damn—she’d expected the task to excite him, not her—and yet her breath grew shallow as she saw the dark
hair disappear, leaving soft, smooth skin in its place. Something about revealing this final hidden part of herself—to him, and also to herself—left her feeling alive, vibrant, brave, and gloriously brazen.
Across the shower, Braden’s eyes were glued to her pussy, making it feel so swollen that she couldn’t imagine what it looked like in such a state, now without even pubic hair to conceal it. She worked carefully, steadily, trying to remain calm and ignore her own ragged breathing, until she’d finished, leaving only a small tuft of pale curls at the top. “Good?” she asked, lifting her eyes to him.
His dark gaze shone with masculine pleasure as he answered with only a short nod, then bent one finger toward himself, summoning her. He stepped out of the spray so that she could move under it, and they both watched as the water washed away the remains of shaving cream. The second it was gone, Braden’s hand slipped between her legs. They both moaned at the touch.
“Just like I wanted you,” he said. “Soft and slick.”Then he pulled his hand away. “Feel it,” he instructed.
Given that she’d touched herself for him before, she didn’t hesitate. Yet she sucked in her breath when she discovered just how incredibly smooth she’d left herself.
“Beautiful,” he whispered over her, leaning in for a lingering kiss.
“I can’t really see it,” she admitted.
Reaching behind him for the shaving mirror, hung on a small hook, he held it in front of her at just the right angle—and she gasped. Men were used to having their sex organs on display—women, not so much. The vision was at once startling yet . . . lovely. Lovely to see what he saw and to know it turned him on. Lovely, too, to see what she really was down there, how she really looked.
Then she remembered what had prompted this. He’d told her he wanted to lick her some more. She’d already been very satisfied when he’d offered, but now she ached for stimulation to the flesh she’d just spent long minutes teasing in so many ways. “Do you want to kiss it now?” she whispered, peering up into those dark eyes, hoping he could see the lust in hers.
An expression of supreme gratification washed over his face—as if maybe he’d just figured out that he’d truly begun to change her, change her into what he wanted her to be.
He never answered, just pressed his palms to her hips and began walking her slowly backward until she bumped lightly into the bench. He eased her down onto it and issued a simple command. “Spread for me.”
Pulse racing, she parted her thighs, and it felt like she was opening herself to him in a whole new way.
He dropped to his knees, slid his hands up her thighs, and peered intently at her face. “Do you know how beautiful you are, Laura?”
She didn’t answer for a long moment, not sure how to. On an average day, she’d probably call herself a six. She wasn’t a stunner—she knew that and was okay with it. But with him, she felt beautiful, more desirable than ever before. “You make me beautiful,” she finally said.
The words brought a small smile to his mouth just before he bent to lick her. Same searing pleasure as before, yet even more intimate now, somehow. Because she’d bared this last private part of herself. She’d had no idea when he’d asked her to do it that it would feel like such a monumental change, yet it did. So much that she parted her legs even farther, as wide as she could, until she was lifting them both onto the bench on either side of her. She sighed and moaned with each tantalizing lick he swept through her wetness and felt every graze of his fingers where he stroked her outer flesh, the skin now soft and bare.
Even when she let her eyes fall shut, she knew his gaze shifted from her pink folds to her face and back again. She could feel those dark eyes as tangible as a touch—it seemed she’d always been able to, even when he’d been all the way in California.
Her breath grew labored with his ministrations, each stroke of his tongue lifting her higher. She moaned, sighed, lightly massaged his scalp. Yes, yes, so good, baby. She kept the words inside now, though, because so much emotion combined with so much sensation was weakening her all over again.
Suddenly he raised his head and said, “I need to be inside you,” so firmly she would have thought his life depended on it. It made her want him there, too.
“God, yes,” she agreed.
Grabbing her wrist, he yanked her to her feet, turned her body, and used his hands to plant her palms flat against the shower wall. Mist from the warm spray floated over them as Braden gripped her hips and plunged inside her.
Oh God—so big, so deep! Her legs nearly dropped out from under her as she released a hot sob.
“You okay?” His breath came warm on her ear.
“Mmm” was all she could manage. Then, with a Herculean effort, “Big. Good.”
He growled a response. “You’re so tight around my cock.”
She sobbed again, lightly this time, overcome by the whole encounter.
When he first began to thrust, she had to fight to keep her footing, keep her knees steady. He anchored one strong arm around her waist to help her stand. Every hard stroke pulsated all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes and made her cry out from the intensity.
But before long, she was instinctually arching her ass toward him, wanting to somehow take him even deeper. His hands snaked around to grasp her wet breasts, massaging in time with each drive of his stiff shaft, then one dipped down to stroke through her moisture in front. Only then did she realize he was no longer holding her up, that she’d found the strength to take what he had to give.
She felt out of her mind with pleasure, letting it envelop her. She could no longer think or reason, only absorb him—his cock, his hands, the mouth that occasionally rained kisses across her shoulders, neck. She heard her own voice—she sounded like someone in pain, nearly crying, but they both knew it was pleasure that consumed her.
His big fingers turned in perfect circles over her clit, and thrusting against his cock in one direction brought a sweeter, hotter pressure in front when she moved back the other way. She’d never had multiple orgasms before—but maybe that was just because her other lovers had quit trying after one? She’d thought she might climax a few minutes ago, when he’d started licking her again, and now, as he touched her, moved in her so powerfully, she knew she would come a second time.
It broke over her in waves of light and heat, and like before, she started to go down—too weak to keep standing—but the hand at her breast dropped to her waist to support her as she screamed out her pleasure. “I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” he cooed in her ear as the final vibrations echoed through her.
And it struck her that she felt safe with him.
How the hell had that happened? She barely knew him, after all—they’d done nothing together besides have sex.
Yet she trusted him. Trusted him to take her to these new, hedonistic places without letting her fall. Figuratively or literally.
But then there was no more time for thinking or examining, because he was still pumping into her, hard and fast, and she knew he was getting close, too. Each stroke still filled her, thrilled her, beyond comprehension. “I’m gonna come soon, honey,” he rasped. “I’m gonna come so hard. I’m gonna come on your ass.”
Whoa. That caught her off guard and she looked over her shoulder.
“Let me” was all he said, voice low, sure, persuasive. As if he knew with all certainty that she’d agree, but just wanted to hear her say it.
It wasn’t, she thought, as if she had much choice anyway, if that’s what he wanted to do, but as always with Braden, she wanted to excite him. “Yes,” she said.
And it was only as he pulled out of her, growling the word “Now” through clenched teeth, only as she felt the hot liquid evidence of his orgasm arc across her rounded flesh, once, twice, thrice, that she discovered yet another new, searing pleasure. Feeling his semen this way made it more real, more like a vital part of him that she’d brought forth, that he was giving to her. Instantly wanting to feel it even deeper, she followed
the urge to reach behind her and begin rubbing it into her skin.
“Oh God, honey,” Braden murmured, breathless. “That’s so hot, I could almost come again.” And then he began to help her rub it in, which was so hot she almost thought she could come again, too.
They stood that way, silent, hands meshing with the moisture, massaging it into her ass, until she peered once more over her shoulder. “I never come twice,” she said.
His gaze twinkled darkly. “You do now.”
Chapter Nine
When they stepped from the shower and Laura reached for her discarded cami, Braden’s voice sounded behind her. “Don’t get dressed.”
She looked over her shoulder, surprised—and exhausted. “I thought you were tired from skiing.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I am.” Then his eyes warmed on her. “But I still don’t want you to get dressed. I want to be able to see you.”
With that, he walked to a closet, slid open the mirrored door, and pulled from a hanger a black see-through kimono, holding it out to her.
Laura drew in her breath. “How many women have worn this?”
He gave her a soft, playful smile. “None, snowflake—I bought it just for you. Before I came up here.”
Suddenly wondering if she could catch a glimpse of other feminine-type things in the closet, she leaned past him, trying to look. “What else did you buy for me?”
“Naughty, naughty,” he said, sliding the door closed. “You’ll find out when I give them to you, and if I catch you peeking, I’ll have to give you a spanking.”
She bit her lip and spoke unguardedly. “That makes it even more tempting.”
“Why, Laura, I didn’t know you liked to play that way.” He raised his eyebrows, looking heatedly amused.
She dropped her gaze, feeling only a tad sheepish. “Neither did I.”
His dark eyes pinned her in place. “Well, we’ll explore that another time. For now, put this on and we’ll go make dinner.”
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