Page 74 of Lick
“I want you.”
“And I want you. I’m crazy about you.”
“But—”
“How about I get you off with a showerhead? Wouldn’t that be nice?”
I actually stamped my foot, despite my wobbling knees. “No.”
At which point my husband cracked up laughing and I hated him.
“I thought you were in love with the shower.” He tittered away, highly amused with himself and all but begging for death.
Tears of frustration actually welled in my eyes. “No.”
“You sure? I’m pretty certain I remember hearing you say it.”
“David, for fuck’s sake, I’m in love with you.”
He stilled completely. Even the finger embedded within me stopped moving. There was only the sound of the water falling. You’d think those words would have lost their power. Weren’t we already married? Hadn’t we decided to stay married? Invoking thel-word should have lost its mystical punch, given our crazy situation. But it hadn’t.
Everything changed.
Strong hands turned me and lifted me, leaving my feet dangling precariously in the air. It took me a second to figure out where I was and what had happened. I wrapped my legs and arms around him for safekeeping, holding on tight. His face… I’d never seen such a fierce, determined expression. It went well beyond lust and closer toward being what I needed from him.
His hands gripped my rear, taking my weight and holding me to him. Slowly, steadily, he lowered me onto him. There was none of the pain this time to rob me of pleasure. Nothing to distract me from the feel of him filling me. It was such a strange, wonderful sensation, having him inside of me. I squirmed, trying to get more comfortable. Instantly, his fingers dug into my butt cheeks.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
“What?”
“Just… just stay still for a minute.”
I scrunched up my nose, concentrated on catching my breath. This sex stuff was tricky. Also, I wanted to memorize every moment of this perfect experience. I didn’t want to forget a thing.
He balanced my back against the shower wall and pushed more fully into me. A startled sound burst out of my mouth. Most closely it resembled “argh.”
“Easy,” he murmured. “You okay?”
I felt really full. Stretched. And it might have felt good. It was hard to tell. I needed him to do something so I could figure out where this new sensation was taking me. “Are you going to move now?”
“If you’re okay now.”
“I’m okay.”
He did move then, watching my face all the while. The slide out lit me up inside in a lovely rush, but the thrust back in got my immediate attention. Whoa. Good or bad, I still couldn’t quite tell. I needed more. He gave it to me, his pelvis shifting against me, keeping the warmth and tension building. My blood felt fever hot, surging through me, burning beneath my skin. I fit my mouth to his, wanting more. Wanting it all. The wet of his mouth and the skill of his tongue. All of him. No one kissed like David. As though kissing me beat breathing, eating, sleeping, or anything else he might have otherwise planned to do with the rest of his life.
My back bumped hard against the glass wall and our teeth clinked together. He broke the kiss with a wary look, but he never stopped moving. Harder, faster, he rocked into me. It just got better and better. We needed to do this all the time. Constantly. Nothing else mattered when it was like this between us. Every worry disappeared.
It was so damn good. He was all that I needed.
Then he hit upon some spot inside of me and my whole body seized up, nerves tingling and running riot. My muscles squeezed him tight, and he thrust in deep several times in rapid succession. The world blacked out, or I closed my eyes. The pressure inside me shattered into a million amazing pieces. It went on and on. My mind left the stratosphere, I was sure of it. Everything sparkled. If it felt anything like that for David, I don’t know how he stayed on his feet. But he did. He stood strong and whole with me clutched tight against him like he’d never let me go.
Eventually, about a decade later, he did set me down. His hands hovered by my waist, just in case. Once my limbs proved trustworthy, he turned me to face the water. With a gentle hand, he cleaned me between my legs. I didn’t get what he was up to at first and tried to back away. Touching anything there right then didn’t seem a smart idea.
“It’s okay,” he said, drawing me back into the spray of water. “Trust me.”
I stood still, flinching out of instinct. He took nothing but care. The whole world seemed weird, everything too close and yet buffered at the same time. Weariness and the best orgasm of my life had undone me.
