Naughty Wishes Part I (15 page)

The look in his eyes sharpened, making her breath catch as his lips firmed, pressing drops of water between them. He
bent his head to apply that moisture to her throat, the rush of the water forming an even more private bubble around them. “The way you hold so still when I do that, pressing your cheek to the tile, exposing your throat, the way you tremble in my arms . . . Fuck, I have no idea how I managed to wait this long to do this. Maybe because I didn’t let myself imagine it would work this way between us so easily. If I had, this might have happened way too soon.”

In her current position, she thought the second they’d met wouldn’t have been soon enough. Just toss Anthony out of her building and get right to it.

“So . . . you didn’t do this kind of thing on those occasional hookups?”

He lifted his head to pin her with his gaze. Yes, she was unabashedly fishing, but he was obviously in a mood to indulge her. “There are some things that come without any instruction when it’s natural to you. Like asking your Master for permission to touch him the way you just did. Right?”

She nodded.

“Trying to teach a partner that kind of intuitive thing, versus her doing it because it’s in her as well? There’s no comparison.” His voice echoed off the tile, tingling along her flesh like his hands upon her. “You reach for those things without thought, Sam, and maybe I always knew you would, which made you an even stronger temptation.”

“I’m glad you said that,” she admitted. “I think part of it is me anticipating what you want, but another part of me voicing it is . . . telling you how I’d like it to be with you.” She lifted her gaze to his attentive face, but for the next part, she focused on his throat and shoulder, her fingers sliding along that slick terrain. “I know I’ve been pushy these past few days, but that didn’t feel right for me. The things I want and need, that I say now . . . I’m hoping like hell I won’t embarrass myself, going too far or doing something that doesn’t work for you.”

“You haven’t yet.” Touching her cheek, he made her look up at him. “But if you do, and I say so, I don’t want you to be embarrassed. I may ask for more than works for you. If that happens, we talk about it and figure out a compromise. Your feelings are more important to me than anything I want to do to you, Sam.”

His fingers closed on her chin, holding her in place. “I’m not throwing out some feel-good bullshit. I mean it. You do something that makes you afraid or uncomfortable just to please me, that doesn’t work. Got it?”

“Yes.”

His jaw tightened. “Yes, what?”

She pressed her lips together, wondering if she’d always feel that little adrenaline spike when he used that tone with her. She sure hoped so. “Yes sir.”

“Good.”

His countenance eased. “So, do you still need to wash stuff or are you done?”

She still had things to wash, and he needed a shower after his run. For the next few moments, things were more playful as they worked around each other, helping and hindering in ways that had Geoff chuckling and Sam smiling. She started teasing him, rubbing her soap-slick body against places he’d already rinsed. Taking down the showerhead, he sprayed it in her face until she called out for mercy, flailing at him. He angled the spray lower, backing her into the corner, and then abruptly the playful tone disappeared. Closing a hand over her throat, he held her in place, a gesture that stilled things inside her. His hazel eyes glittered, mouth firm with carnal purpose once more.

“Palms on the tile on either side of you,” he ordered. “Spread your legs and keep your ass against the wall.”

They might not ever get out of this shower. Since she didn’t mind risking a lifetime of pruny toes and fingers for this, she complied, swallowing under his grip as he ran the sprayer over her breasts. He concentrated the force of the water on her nipples as they contoured into aroused points. Then he lowered the showerhead and changed the adjustment from the needle spray to the massage setting. As the first triple shot of that concentrated setting hit between her legs, she jumped. Mindful of his order, though, she did her best to keep her backside against the wall, her legs spread. His hand constricted on her throat as he moved the showerhead spray over her pussy in short passes, random, up and down, back and across, then centered it on her clit, an overwhelming sensation after such a recent climax. She gasped, twitched until he moved it away. At which point her sex throbbed, begging for it to come back.

He obliged after spending a little time on her breasts again, getting her moaning in a constant hum from that stimulation before he took the spray between her legs again. His thumb idly rubbed against her collarbone as he held her in place, working her up until she was crying out, near climax once more. She blinked, disoriented as he took the spray away, putting it back in its mount.

“Last night you said you wanted to serve your Master on your knees,” he said. “Do it now, do it well, and I’ll finish what I just started.”

She went down on her knees, and not just because of the promise of a climax. As the shower spray slid down her back, keeping her warm, she braced herself against his thighs and got up close and personal with the shaft jutting out over his thighs. His erection had returned in full force with their shower play.

Pressing her open mouth against the side of his cock, she played her lips over it, nuzzling and teasing him with the tip of her tongue as she curled her fingers around the base, the side of her hand pressing into his testicles. Opening her mouth, she took him in, slid down and down, far as she could go without gagging herself. She wanted to take all of him so badly,
but he was too much. So instead she reached around him to pull some soap from the shower caddy. She made her hands nice and slippery and gripped him at the base with one and cupped his balls with the other, sliding the soap over them and around his shaft, rubbing her thumb over that pulsing vein. She could still recall the demanding grip of his hand on her throat, and the bliss of total obeisance took her over, all of her centered on this. Giving him pleasure at his command.

His hand fell on her head, the clutch of his fingers in her hair showing her he enjoyed her ingenuity, but he apparently had a different demand in mind. He slid her back off him to rinse his cock and then directed her mouth back onto it. Pushing her down on him in ruthless demand, he challenged her gag reflex, helping her learn how to relax it and take more of him. Was he testing her, seeing what worked or didn’t for her? Or showing her what kind of Dom he was, determining how demanding she wanted him to be? So far he was doing great.

Her teasing of his cock with mouth and soapy fingers had made him stiffer, thicker, but now he wanted her to get down to business and suck him off. Since her pussy was still throbbing, aching for that climax he’d held out of reach, she was more than eager to prove how dedicated she could be.

She clung to his thighs, nails digging in as she sucked, licked, rose and fell on her knees, gripped him, stroked, squeezed and worked his balls in her eager fingers. A glance up through her lashes showed her he had his head tipped back against the shower wall, his hips jacking up into her mouth so she could hardly keep up. She worked her ass off for it, even as her jaw tired. He’d come only a little while ago, so it would take extra time, and she was determined to prove her stamina.

He made her stop, his cock still deep in her mouth. “Stay just like that,” he said, his voice reverberating with fierce command in the small space. Pulling the showerhead from its mount, he dropped it down to dangle against her leg. “Put the head against your pussy. Hold it there so the water is hammering your clit, and then get back to sucking me off.”

His hand tangled in her hair again as she complied, jerking at the stimulation. “Your sweet ass better not come before I do,” he warned. “Or you’ll be in big trouble.”

The idea of that trouble was almost as stimulating as the spray itself. She went back to work. He’d cracked the shower door to be sure she had oxygen in her kneeling position, and that trickle of cool air along her spine was just one more sensation among many. The showerhead trapped between her thighs adjusted with her movements as she rose and fell, such that the spray slid over her labia, her clit, her thighs. Sometimes a straight, random powerful shot hit right under her clit hood, making her jerk and moan against his shaft. But she struggled to keep her focus on bringing him to climax, even as the water pressure made her crazy, until everything was pure physical response. Throbbing cunt, aching jaw, the taste of him, stretching and filling her mouth, his hand in her hair, her fingers digging into his thigh.

God . . . oh God, she was going to come. Blissfully, though, he thrust harder into her mouth then, hand spasming on the back of her neck as the first shot of his seed hit her throat and bathed her tongue. Thick fluid filled her mouth. She couldn’t
contain all of it, but she swallowed as much as she could.

He’d fucked her cunt, her mouth . . . Though she knew she was having crazy, sentimental, sex-driven thoughts, she wanted him to do it to her ass, too. Leave no area unclaimed.

She totally belonged to him.

***

As the pummeling water pushed Sam into climax, her cry of release became a scream that sent a hard shove of pleasure up the base of Geoff’s spine, through his chest and definitely through his cock, flooding his own response into her vibrating throat.

He gripped her shoulders, holding her in place so she couldn’t get away from what crashed over her, through her. He wanted her to fly like she’d never flown before, so when she fell to earth he could catch her.

“Oh fuck . . .” He choked out the words, more fervent than a curse. What he’d told her was so incredibly true. He’d imagined such an intuitive interaction with a submissive, but he’d always been too practical to believe it could happen like this. But the freaking remarkable thing was this was just the beginning, the tip of all the things he wanted to do for her, with her, to her.

She was thorough, of course. He had to stifle a half-pained chuckle as she kept working him in her mouth, not willing to ease up until he stopped her, drew her back. She was so eager to please and, though he was the Dom, he was amazed at how much her generosity spurred his own to the point he knew he’d do anything for her.

Even now, she kept her head pressed to his leg, her arms wound around him as he reeled the showerhead back up and returned it to the mount. Lifting her to her feet, he settled her in his arms, holding her against his chest and letting them both lean against the wall.

“I’m done,” she mumbled. “I’m going back to bed for the rest of the day.”

Geoff couldn’t think of anything he’d enjoy more than spending the rest of the day in bed with her. But the only reason he could indulge their shower play was because he had an off-site meeting this morning that wasn’t until nine o’clock, which had given him an advantageous extra hour at home. He was glad to be able to give her that much more time, to reinforce what had started the night before. He was sure she’d woken up worried he might renege on his promise. He wouldn’t. If he backed away, leaving her alone with these feelings like she’d done something wrong, he was not only an idiot, he’d deserve every bit of the thrashing Chris could and would dish out.

He kissed her brow tenderly. “Sure, you say you’re exhausted. Now. But if you’re like most women, your batteries will recharge in the next hour. I’m the one who will nod off in the middle of the client meeting. Which, by the way—and I say this with total regret—I better get my ass in gear so I can be on time for it.”

“Boo,” she complained, but she smiled up at him. Shutting off the shower water, he shifted her in his arms and pushed the door open. She stepped out, his hand on her elbow steadying her.

Which meant he felt her freeze, as abruptly as if she’d been shot through with ice.

Chris was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, watching them. Because of the damn steam and water on the wavy glass of the shower door, Geoff had no idea how long he’d been there. His face was unreadable, but the second Geoff’s gaze met those cold brown eyes, Chris was gone, pivoting on his heel.

“Chris,” Sam said urgently, but Geoff knew he wouldn’t respond.
Damn it.
He grabbed a towel and handed one to Sam, giving her a hard second look to make sure she was steady on her feet. “I’m fine,” she said, understanding. “Go after him.”

He strode out of the bathroom, the towel held around his hips, water beading off him and leaving a trail on the carpet. “Chris,” he said sharply. “Damn it, don’t you fucking leave.”

He heard the heavy tread of Chris’s work shoes hit the kitchen before Geoff even reached the living room. When he came into the kitchen, he didn’t see him, but he didn’t have to wonder if Chris had beat him out the door. He walked right into his fist.

The son of a bitch coldcocked him at the kitchen threshold, the power of the punch knocking Geoff back against the frame. When someone hit him, Geoff’s first response was normally retaliation. Over the years, he and Chris had had enough fights they practically had a scripted choreography. One hit first, the other hit back, and there was usually an exchange of three punches before they hit the ground and turned it into a down-and-dirty wrestling match that sometimes went Geoff’s way, sometimes Chris’s. In the end, it always ended up with them sitting together, bloody and bruised, sharing a beer.

Somehow he had a feeling this wasn’t going to end as amicably, especially since Chris didn’t seem interested in further physical contact. Of any kind. He’d stepped back and was dominating their modest-sized kitchen. They were of like height, though Chris had a more muscular bulk, and his skin was bronzed by outdoor work, blending the scattering of freckles he’d had across his nose and cheeks since he was a kid. His dark hair was tousled over the frosty brown eyes.

“Chris, it’s not like that, man.”

“Sure it is,” the other man said, lip curling in a sneer. He wore camo pants and a T-shirt. When he came straight from work, he was usually in one of the dark blue Cortez Landscaping shirts Esteban had his employees wear. Since Chris was
wearing one of his eclectic, off-the-wall T-shirts instead, it told Geoff they’d probably driven through the night, stopping at a truck stop for a quick cleanup. This T-shirt had a drawing of a brontosaurus wearing sunshades, with “Dinosaurs are Cool” printed around the long body. It had been a gift from Sam.