Page 91 of Fearlessly Us

Before I can respond, Drew lifts me like I weigh absolutely nothing, taking a couple steps backwards to sit on the wide bench on the far side of the shower and settling me right in his lap, my back plastered to his chest and my legs draped over his thighs. “I want to feel you,” he murmurs, sliding a hand up my leg to tease the crease of my thigh. “I want to feel how wet this gorgeous cunt is. I bet it’s dripping for me, all from having my cock down your throat.”

He dips between my legs, running a finger through my slit, teasing my entrance with a groan. “I knew it,” he mutters. “Fucking soaked. Totally perfect. Can’t wait to feel this pussy squeeze me.” Drew circles my clit with his thumb as his other hand comes up to tease my nipple, plucking and rolling it and dragging his mouth up the column of my throat until I’m gasping and rocking my hips forward to chase his finger in the brief moments when he pulls it away.

“Holy shit that feels good,” I mumble, dropping my head back on his shoulder. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” Drew murmurs, slowly sliding his middle finger inside me and rolling his thumb over my clit in slow circles. “Fucking never. I’m not stopping until you’re gushing all over my hand, and the second you do, I’m going to lift you up and slide inside you so I can feel your cunt squeeze my cock and then you’re gonna come again just like that.”

Drew curls his finger, rubbing in the perfect spot as he tweaks my nipple, and I arch back against him, a low moan rolling out of me.

“Fuck you’re perfect.” Drew latches his mouth onto my neck, flicking my clit and my nipple at the same pace, and I swear I see literal stars. “So goddamn perfect for me and I can’t wait to be inside you.” He never lets up, flicking and stroking and rubbing until I’m a needy mess, moaning and panting and I’m almost positive I beg. I definitely fucking beg. “So gorgeous when you let go for me. Let me have it, Princess.” He curls his finger again, and as if I was placed on this earth solely to do Drew Ellicott’s bidding, pleasure rocks through me as I come on a long, low moan.

My legs shake and my core clenches, and before I realize what’s happening, Drew is sliding his legs apart so I’m spread even wider. He lifts me slightly and pleasure is still rolling through me in waves as he pulls me back down, gripping my hips and helping me slowly sink down onto him. He lets me control the pace like he does every time, careful to make sure he’s only giving me what I can take, what feels good, and that small act of care winds love and emotion and arousal and sharp, pulsing pleasure tightly together inside me until I’m positive I would die for this man without a single second thought.

“Holy shit, I can feel your orgasm,” he mumbles, his body vibrating behind me with the force of his restraint. “The way your pussy squeezes me like it’s looking for more. Perfect. So fucking perfect. I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you more. I’ll give you every goddamn thing.”

“Drew, fuck,” I cry out as his cock drags along my front wall, pleasure rocketing through me. I don’t know if it’s still the first orgasm or a second one or something else entirely, but I have never, ever felt anything like this. I didn’t know I could. It’s not the first time we’ve done this, but after needing to wait so long after my surgery, it somehow feels like the first time. With the steam from the shower winding around us and Drew’s big body behind me, one hand coming down to circle my clit while the other arm wraps around my shoulders to hold me tight against him, everything I thought I understood about pleasure, about closeness and love and making someone a part of me rewrites itself, rearranges inside me until my world narrows to just this moment and this thing between us that is building on itself, wild and uncontrollable and so perfect I don’t know anything but him.

“Grind on me, Catie,” Drew rasps in my ear. “Use me. Fuck me with that tight cunt until I come so deep inside you, you’ll feel me in your fucking throat.”

Holy. Shit.

It’s not easy with the shower making everything slippery and my feet dangling so just my toes touch the floor, but Caitlin Parker isn’t a fucking quitter. Stretching out my arms, I press my hands against the shower walls and swivel my hips, grinding down on him as his fingers keep moving on my clit in wicked circles that have my whole body trembling and my back arching as I climb toward a terrifyingly high peak.

And Drew is everywhere. His fingers on my clit and his other hand on my breasts and flicking my nipples and squeezing my hip and reaching out to lace his fingers with mine as we move together. His mouth drags along my shoulder and up my neck, licking and sucking and grazing his teeth along my sensitive skin until every nerve ending in my body is a live wire.

“More,” I rasp, my hips writhing over him, trying to get closer. To get him deeper. To get…more. Of this. Of him. Of everything. “Fuck me, Drew. Please,” I beg, too far gone to be ashamed of it.

Drew doesn’t ask if I’m sure. He doesn’t ask if I’m ready. He just grits out, “Anything. Everything,” and brings one hand to my hip, holding me tight enough to bruise as he thrusts up into me in a punishing rhythm, his other hand circling my clit with the most perfect pressure. And I love it. I love that Drew doesn’t treat me like I’m breakable or broken or any of the million things I’ve thought about myself over the years. He doesn’t look at the surgery scars on my stomach I’m still too afraid to touch or wonder if this is the time I’m going to bleed all over him or worry that maybe this is too much or I’m not ready.

Instead, he fucks me like I’m everything he’s ever needed. Like he’s giving me pleasure as much as he’s taking his own from me. His powerful body moves under mine, and his mouth is at my ear spilling words that are both filthy and sweet as he takes me like we were born to do this. Be here. Together.

“Holy shit, Caitlin,” he mutters, his thighs starting to shake. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking perfect, your cunt so tight around me, taking me so.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Well.” Thrust. “Heaven,” he grinds out, his rhythm speeding up as his hips start to stutter. “Fucking heaven. Could live here forever, my cock buried inside you, right where it belongs.” Drew shifts his hips under me, changing the angle slightly and hitting a spot that has pleasure coiling tightly in my center.

“Oh my god, right there,” I urge him on. “I’m so close, Drew.”

“Fuck yeah,” he rumbles. “Such a good fucking girl, saying my name when I’m deep inside you. I love it when you do. Makes me feel like yours. Can I be yours, Catie? I really fucking want to be.”

“Mine,” I mumble, as he continues rocking into me from below, too swamped in pleasure to remember any more words than that. Too close to the edge to do anything but hold on for the ride.

“Yours,” Drew grinds out, voice edged in pleasure and a kind of desperation that has heat unfurling in my belly, my own pleasure so intense my mind fractures with the force of it. He takes his hand from my hip, wrapping it around my throat, leaning into me until I feel the heat of his breath skate over my skin. When I clench around his cock, he sucks in a ragged breath, the hand around my throat tightening. “Yes,” he groans into my neck, and I feel that deep rumble everywhere. “Give it to me, Catie. I need to feel it. Give it to me please.”

The feeling that builds in my core is terrifying in its intensity, and when Drew brings his free hand down on my clit in a tight, hard slap, I’m gone. I cry out, catapulting straight over the edge, my orgasm exploding into me in a riot of color as stars dot my vision.

“Fucking. Perfect,” Drew grunts out, punctuating each word with a rough thrust before he stills, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he pulses inside me, filling me with his release.

It feels like forever before my orgasm subsides. Before we come back to earth together, my body melting back against Drew’s as he wraps an arm around my shoulders, holding me tightly to him as his chest heaves against my back and the gallop of his heart matches my own.

“Catie,” he murmurs, my name a reverent whisper. He drops his lips to my shoulder, pressing soft kisses to my overheated skin. “That was…you are…” I feel him shake his head, letting out a long, shaky exhale like words are beyond him.

“I know,” I say, turning my head to kiss his jaw, my hands coming up to grip his forearms. “Me too.”

“That was okay right?” He leans his head against mine, his arms tightening around my shoulders like he wants to pull me closer even though there’s no space between us at all. “It wasn’t too rough? I didn’t hurt you?”

I close my eyes, soaking in the feel of him behind me, my body pressed to his in the steamy shower and my brain a riot of feelings and emotions that all look like him. “You didn’t. You couldn’t. It was perfect.”

And it was. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I could ever have something like this. And not just the sex, although I never thought my body was capable of that either. But the man. The one who sees me and knows me and wants me anyway. The one who makes me feel safe and understood and like who I am is exactly enough. Who fucks me in a shower and makes me feel like the most powerful, beautiful, desirable woman in the entire world when I’ve spent most of my life feeling the opposite of that.

“Let’s get clean,” Drew whispers, pressing a kiss to my cheek and lifting me off him, setting me gently on the shower bench. “Stay right there,” he says, leaning down to kiss me one more time before standing up and grabbing the shampoo. He squeezes some out and works it through my hair, washing it out before switching to conditioner. And when he’s done with that, he pours body wash into his hand and smooths it over my skin, between my legs, everywhere but my stomach, and the care he takes with me has unexpected tears pricking my eyes, emotion winding through me until I’m practically a puddle at his feet.