I almost don’t recognize myself.
After he shaves my pubic hair into a symmetrical triangle with military precision, he scoops up water, washing away all traces of soap and hair.
The pads of his fingers trail delicately over my slit, and I shiver. A moan tears from my lips, loud enough to hear over the swish and trickle of water. My head tips back and I try to hide my embarrassment behind closed eyelids.
I swear he growls. My legs try to clamp shut in response, but he catches them first.
“If I leave this bathroom right now, what are you going to do?”
Heat lashes at my cheeks, spilling down over my chest. My breasts are full, my nipples peaked almost painfully.
“Tell me, Bailey. I wanna hear it. I can see you. You’re making a mess on the edge of my tub. If I get up and walk out right now, what am I gonna hear you doing from the other side of that door?”
My mind races. A little part of me wants to clam up on him right now. Tap out. This water feels too deep for someone who hasn’t spent much time swimming.
But I’m a survivor. And I want this.
“Probably play with myself until I come with your name on my lips,” I admit in a hushed tone.
His hands move up to my inner thighs, one on each side, then his thumbs press up over my outer lips.
He’s teasing me.
I arch my spine, teasing right back.
“Seems unfair that you get to play with this pretty pussy when I’m the one who’s been down on his knees doing all the hard work.”
One thumb goes higher, brushing over my clit.
I cry out.
“Don’t you think that seems unfair, Bailey?”
Another swipe.
“Yes!” My voice is a desperate whine.
“Ask me to play with your pussy. Let me hear it.”
I lick my lips, glaring down at him through lust-filled eyes. And then I raise him one. “Please play with my pussy.”
“Fuck, Bailey,” is all he gets out before he buries his head between my legs and his tongue spears into me.
One of my hands flies back to prop up my needy body, while the other shoots to his hair. I brace for what has to be the most overwhelming wave of pleasure I’ve ever been hit with. Maybe it’s the past five minutes of anticipation, maybe it’s that no one has ever used their mouth on me.
Maybe it’s him.
Whatever it is, it makes my vision go black and my brain shut down. It makes my legs spread impossibly wider, and my hips grind forward against him.
“You’re fucking delicious,” he rasps, then slings my legs over his shoulders.
My whimpers turn to moans when his tongue moves up, teeth grazing my clit before he sucks on it. And my moans turn to cries when he adds one finger—and then two—stretching me so carefully. He soothes the bite of his intrusion with the overwhelming pleasure of his tongue.
“Beau. Beau. Beau.” I chant his name as he pushes me higher.
He shoves his fingers into me hard, shaking my body with the force of it while sucking me all at once, and I scream his name. A rush of heat flows from me, disintegrating my bones in the process.
My orgasm rocks my very foundation. Beau stays between my legs as I come back down, softly licking and sucking and telling me how pretty I am, and that makes my addiction to him even more obsessive.
Cool air rushes in when he pulls his head back, and I open my eyes just in time to see him lick his lips. He looks pleased with himself. He’s got that devilish smirk on his glistening face, and that cocky glint in his eye.
“New rule, Bailey.” He points at my left hand, slung over the edge of the tub, and then between my legs. “So long as you’re wearing that ring, this pussy is mine.”
My heart thunders at how base he sounds, staking a claim to my body.
“Next time you find yourself thinking you’re going to pull that box of toys out and play with it all by yourself, you’re going to offer it to me first.”
I straighten slightly, trying to appear less boneless than I feel as I nod back at him. I’m buzzing with excitement as my tongue darts out over my lips. “Okay.”
He pushes to stand above me, and my eyes bug at what’s pointing straight at me from between his legs. He regards me carefully, completely ignoring his raging erection, something I find challenging to do.
I itch to touch it. I wonder how it would feel in my mouth. I want him to tell me in painstaking detail how he wants me to suck it.
“You’re fucking perfect. You know that?” Then he leans down, kisses me tenderly, and brushes a thumb over my bottom lip, making me taste the lingering remains of my orgasm.