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I gasp and jerk both hands away from my body guiltily.
Then I frown. Why should I stop? I’m not doing anything wrong. Besides, he’s seen me do this before. “What amIdoing? You started it.”
“Were you just masturbating on the bathroom counter?” he asks.
I let my gaze track over his wet, naked form. He didn’t finish. His cock is hard, huge, almost angry-looking.
“I was,” I admit. “While listening toyoumasturbate in the shower.”
“You just walk into the bathroom when other people are showering?”
“Your groaning and calling my name made me curious. I thought maybe you were sick.”
Finally, he gives a short laugh. “You came in here because you wereconcerned?”
I give him a little smile. “No. I’ve heard you say my name like that before. I was pretty sure what was going on.”
“Why didn’t you just get in the shower with me?”
“Why didn’t you wake me up and bring me in here with you?” I counter.
“I didn’t intend to jerk off in here. But then I started thinking about last night.”
“And you have such little control, you just couldn’t wait?”
He grins. “Something like that.”
I push myself off the counter and pad across the floor to stand in front of him. “Or were you hoping I would hear you?”
He reaches out, grabs the front of my T-shirt, and tugs.
I laugh and step over the side of the tub. The water drenches my shirt and hair immediately.
“Maybe something like that.” He leans over. “Took you long enough. I almost finished without you.”
He strips my shirt off, something he could’ve done before he pulled me into the shower, by the way, then grabs the side of my panties.
I realize he’s going to just rip them and I grab his wrists. “There’s another way to take panties off!”
“Told you that you wear panties too often,” he says.
I laugh and push them down my legs. I have to wiggle and bend to drag the wet silk off.
As I’m bent, pulling them over my ankles, I find myself on level with his gorgeous cock.
So I go to my knees.
“Gem,” he says, a note of warning in his voice.
I look up at him, the warm water sliding down my back, rivulets running down my face. “What?” I reach out and take his cock in hand. “Were you fucking me in your fantasy? It wasn’t a blow job?”
His hand goes to my head and tangles in my wet hair. He brings me forward, and I happily swirl my tongue over the head of his cock before sucking just an inch inside my mouth.
“My fist was your hot, gorgeous, sassy, smart mouth,” he says, his voice husky.
I look up at him from under my lashes. “I was hoping so.”
I love giving Henry blow jobs. Having that kind of power over this man is my very favorite thing in this entire world.