Page 14 of Bred

He didn’t answer, simply slid the door open to the shower. His eyes told me that I was doing a horrible job covering up. My throat closed as, instead of answer, Loren reached up and slowly began to remove his shirt, exposing a broad tanned chest and a dusting of blond hair that thickened across his belly and disappeared into his jeans.

I jerked my chin up, my breath short and rapid as I met his eyes once more. I wanted him to keep going. I wanted him to take off his jeans and join me.

But my voice was frozen along with the rest of my body as I stared him down. The look on his face—it was the same as when he’d looked down at me, spreading his cum between my legs last night.

The memory burned white hot, and against my better judgment, my lips parted and a soft whimper slipped out. A beg for attention. From him.

Loren’s jaw clenched hard. And then he was there, in the shower with me, his powerful hand sweeping low so he could pop my feet off the tiled floor and move my legs around his waist. “Are you trying to force my hand, princess?”

“What?”

“Do you know what time it is?”

I shook my head, and he growled a response to me. “It’s five fifty, sweet girl. I promised you forty more minutes until I came to you.”

His hands on my hips held me in place as he ground the wet denim of his jeans against my pussy. The water was still falling down on us, but now every drop felt like delicious torture as my skin tingled and burned under his hold.

“What if I know my answer now?”

His fingers tightened on my hips, making me gasp. “Eager, princess?” Loren dropped his head, and my legs instinctively clung to his waist. His tongue, slick and warm, traced down the line of my neck. “Eager for me to fill that sweet cunt up with my cock? Or do you want my tongue again?”

I groaned, rolling my hips against the warm, smooth skin of his belly.

His teeth dug in for a moment, scoring my skin. “Or perhaps both?”

“Both,” I finally managed to whisper.

CHAPTER EIGHT

WREN

Lorenlaughedagainstmyneck, and then his tongue lashed out to sooth the bite he’d given me. “But I’m a man of my word, wife. Forty minutes.”

With that, he startled me by stepping away and leaving me to flop down from around him with an awkward splash.

I felt like my cheeks must be burning with confusion as we stared at each other more.

Then he lifted one dark-silver brow. “May I use the shower?”

He was already in it, the bastard, but I didn’t bother sassing him. Something told me that wouldn’t end well for me. I huffed a quick response, nodding as I stepped around his big body and out into the steam-filled room.

Naked and hoping desperately to make a dramatic exit, I stared around me but didn’t see a single towel.

Fuck.

Dramatic exit ruined.

“On the warming rack, behind this wall.” Loren’s voice vibrated deeply with humor.

I turned to glare at him and gave another squeak as my husband was slowly working his wet jeans down over his ass. And at my noise, he turned giving me another look at the thick cock that he’d ground against me only moments ago.

Heat bubbled and grew in my belly, making my words die on my tongue. After a pause, I forcibly jerked my eyes off the heavy, bobbing rod between his legs and met his laughing blue eyes. “Anything else, wife?”

Wife. The way he used that word like a weapon was enough to break my trance and send me stomping off towards the door with only a brief pause to snatch one of the huge bath sheets off the towel rack that was right where he’d gestured to.

“Pompous jerk,” I grumbled as I stepped into the master, dancing around to try to prevent more water from dripping on the luxurious carpet under my toes. Even as I said the words though, a smile pulled at my lips.

I’d wondered if my new husband might be funny or at the very least have the capacity to tease me. It seemed like he was, and I found myself liking this teasing, flirtatious dynamic more and more. Because I found myself liking this teasing, flirtatious dynamic more and more.