Page 35 of First Impressions (Passion and Perseverance #1)

When her other senses finally returned, she realized that he was holding her up against the wall of the shower which was still spraying them with a steady stream of warm water.

Her forehead had fallen to rest on his shoulder and she heard his ragged breaths in her left ear as his body calmed from his release.

She saw him let his left hand let go of her and reach over to turn off the shower.

She wanted to tell him that she probably needed to wash again after what just happened but she was too drained to say anything.

Her limbs felt like jello and she knew she still needed a few minutes before she could stand on her own.

He pulled out of her and she immediately felt the loss; she must have sighed because she heard him give a small laugh that seemed like a promise.

“Can you stand?” he angled his face to look at her as she answered.

“I think so.”

Well, that was a lie. She didn’t want to look like a complete fool in front of him though. His head was already big enough.

He lowered her feet to the floor and slowly released his other arm, opening the shower door to grab them towels.

Well, she could stand so it wasn’t a lie.

Walking, on the other hand,…not so much.

She attempted to step towards him to grab one of the towels to cover herself and her knees buckled and she felt herself falling back; and just like the first time, Darcy caught her with an angry ‘you lied to me’ look on his face.

He picked her up as if she weighed nothing, carried her out of the shower and laid her down on the bed.

She tried to grab one of the towels from him but he held them out of reach.

“I will dry you,” he glared.

Unlike the washing, he dried her quickly and efficiently, leaving a towel between her hair and the bed so that it didn’t soak through the sheets. When he was done, she tried to sit up but his hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“We aren’t done yet.” He stood from the bed, grabbed the other towels and walked back into the bathroom.

She couldn’t help but notice that his penis was still elongated and semi-erect and wondered if he was going to take her again, so soon.

The thought went straight to her core and she felt herself getting wet again.

She stayed on the bed but kept herself propped up on her elbows trying to figure out what he was doing, what he was going to do.

She heard the sink turn on and back off again before he appeared in the doorway with a washcloth in his hand.

Again? She must have raised her eyebrows in question because he gave her a small smile as he knelt once again between her legs as they dangled off the side of the bed.

Pushing her thighs farther apart, he gently washed the remnants of himself off of her sensitive core.

At first, the washcloth was painful, her clit still so stimulated and engorged, but after the first few strokes, the pain transformed into pleasure.

Even though his movements weren’t intentionally arousing, as they had been in the shower, she felt the pressure begin to build inside her again.

When she felt the washcloth disappear, her eyes opened, glazed over with pleasure, as she found him staring at her exposed folds.

“You are so wet, so beautiful.” At his comments, she felt a new surge of wetness release from inside her. He groaned and raised his eyes to hers. “I need to taste you as you come,” he said as he lowered his mouth to her again.

At the first sweep of his tongue, her hips jerked up towards him. She let herself lay back onto the bed so her arms could extend to tangle her fingers in his hair. She gripped his scalp as his tongue lapped at her, sometimes darting inside her to stroke her inner muscles.

“This is what I wanted for breakfast all morning,” he said against her folds.

She moaned again and again as his tongue licked and swirled around her clit.

Her legs tensed as her head moved back and forth on the bed.

His hands had moved under her to grip her ass to angle her further open for him.

Faster. Harder. His tongue became demanding, flicking over her clit furiously as she spiraled toward the edge.

Just when she knew she couldn’t wait any longer, he pulled her clit into his mouth and sucked hard.

She screamed and shattered. Her hips jerked up again as she orgasmed.

Just when the first wave of her climax had begun to subside, his mouth left her as he stood and entered her.

Her body was overwhelmed with sensations of pleasure, her inner muscles clenching his erection with the remaining waves of her climax, at the same time, as he pumped into her, a new orgasm began to build on the remnant of the last.

She couldn’t think; she couldn’t breathe. All she felt was the pleasure building even higher than before as he drove into her again and again.

“You’re. Coming. Again,” he grunted out each word each time he pushed fully into her .

Her head moved back and forth and she felt tears on her cheeks. The pleasure was too sharp, too strong; she didn’t think she could orgasm again like this; it was too much.

“Again. Again,” he repeated the word over and over every time he breached her body.

His strokes became faster and harder. He pounded into her furiously, chanting “again.” All she felt was the pleasure as it overwhelmed her.

She didn’t know if she was close to orgasming or not, the pleasure was too intense.

She knew he was about to climax when his thrusts became wild and frantic.

Suddenly his hand was between them and he thumbed and pinched her clit sending her soaring over the edge, screaming as she felt his hot release eject into her.

He kept pumping into her, his release continuing as the waves of her orgasm kept her inner muscles clenching him, wringing every drop of semen out of him.

When he was finally spent, he pulled out of her and sat off on the side of the bed, picking up the washcloth again and very gently cleaning her for the third time this morning.

Beth felt like she was floating. She could hardly feel her limbs; everything felt numb from the pleasure.

Her eyelids felt like a million pounds as she forced them open to watch him as he cleaned her and then himself before taking the washcloth back into the bathroom.

They must have drifted closed again, because she struggled to open them as she realized she was being lifted to lie the right way on the bed, with her head on the pillow of his arm as he lay next to her, holding her.

Always has to do things the proper way.

With a small smile, in her pleasure-filled stupor, she caught his gaze, “I like you, Mr. Darcy. Too much, I think. Definitely too much…” She trailed off as she lost her train of thought and the ability to keep her eyes open.

Drifting off to sleep she thought she heard his soft response, “I think I love you.” Darcy would never say those things though; it was just her dream.