Page 30 of Ruining Hattie

HATTIE

O n shaky legs, I slide my panties back on and pull down my skirt.

I’m glad Bastion pushed me away last night because I would not have wanted to experience that without being completely sober.

I thought the other morning in his bed was life-changing, but this…

this was something else entirely. Between the sensation of his tongue, the sounds slipping out of him, and the ownership he took, I was breathless.

I didn’t even know it could be like that, feel that primal, as though I might die if he stopped before granting me my release.

But why did he want to stop there? I understand his reasoning, but I don’t like the idea of him walking away unsatisfied. I’m not sure what kind of a job I would do with my mouth on him, but I’d like to try so he can feel what I just did.

He’s the one who told me to own my sexual desires and explore them, and here he is walking away.

Harnessing my courage, I head down the hall.

When I knock on his bedroom door, there’s no answer. I slowly open the door and take a few steps inside. “Bastion?”

He’s nowhere to be found, so he must already be in the shower. A quick glance at the light casting into his room from under the partially closed en suite door tells me I’m right.

I turn to leave, to grant him his privacy, but I stop. His words— take what you want —ring through me again. What if I joined him in the shower? Would he really turn me down if I did?

My chest tightens at the thought of going in there and being rejected, but before I can talk myself out of it, I unzip my skirt, dropping it to the floor with my underwear.

Next to go is my shirt, then my bra. Before I can think better of my decision, I’m padding across the floor toward the en suite.

This is what I wanted, isn’t it? To explore who I am, what I want, what I like? If that’s the case, then I need to be brave and take risks I normally wouldn’t.

Drawing in a deep breath, I slowly push open the bathroom door. But I never prepared myself for what I’d see.

Bastion is inside the massive walk-in shower, and though the glass is fogged, his silhouette is visible.

I can still make out the rhythmic movement of his hand and what he’s holding.

It’s not that he didn’t warn me he would do exactly this, but seeing the effect of what we did, how desperate it made him, gives me a powerful feeling I’ve never felt before.

When I make it halfway across the room, Bastion’s head whips in my direction. His palm wipes across the glass, removing most of the condensation. His eyes widen the closer I draw.

I force my legs to keep moving. Force my mind not to ponder what he might be thinking at seeing me completely nude for the first time.

“What are you doing?” His voice is as rough as the water in the bay last week during the thunderstorm.

“I want you to show me.” I step through the opening into the shower. It’s so large that I remain outside of the spray.

My gaze dips down. I’ve never seen a naked man like this before, but I know that no other man can be as beautiful as Bastion. The lean muscles covering his body, the trail of dark hair that leads from his belly button down to where his hand holds his thick erection.

“Show you what?” His forehead creases.

“How to do what you’re doing.” I walk toward him, staying just out of the spray of the water. “How to please you.”

When Rich and I had sex, we never tried anything else.

I never touched his penis. I laid there underneath him while he took his pleasure, and when he was done, he’d kiss me before rolling off of me.

I thought that was what sex was, something you got through for him, that women didn’t get the same pleasure a man did.

Now that I know that’s not the case, I realize there’s mutual pleasure to be shared, and so far, the balance between the two of us has been weighted in my favor. I want to know that I can deliver as much pleasure to Bastion as he does to me.

His hand slips from his length, and he crooks his finger. “Come here.”

I do as he says, stepping under the spray, and the hot water runs down my back.

Bastion’s eyes track down to my breasts, and his chest heaves slightly with his breaths.

My nipples tighten into hard peaks and my breasts grow heavy because I love his reaction when he looks at me.

God, I want him to touch my breasts, but this isn’t about me right now.

He swallows hard and brings his gaze back up to meet mine.

He takes two steps back so that he’s completely out of the spray of water and points in front of him. “Get on your knees.”

I walk forward and do what he says, lifting my chin to look up at him.

“Now wrap your hand around the base.” He lovingly pets the top of my hair and down the side of my face, tilting my head as he studies me.

“I knew I’d enjoy the sight of you on your knees, wrapping your hand around my cock.

” He groans when I grip him harder. “That’s it, a little harder, then stroke me. ”

I look away from his intense gaze, fascinated by how soft his shaft feels, yet at the same time, how hard it is. He’s thick—my fingers can’t touch when I grip him, but it doesn’t seem to lessen his satisfaction. He groans again and slides his fingers into my hair.

“Now go all the way up, and when you get to the head, twist your hand a bit.” I do as he instructs and his head rocks back for a second. “That’s it, just like that.”

His eyes are closed, his mouth open. I have a vague memory of thinking he looked like a god last night in the club with the neon lights on his face, but now, like this, he looks like a god made into mortal flesh.

I keep pumping him, and I try not to react when he grows even harder in my hand.

I wouldn’t have thought it was possible.

His fingers tighten in my hair, then his hips pump forward.

Even though I just had an orgasm of epic proportions, the space between my legs tingles as I watch him piston his hips in and out of my fist.

“Fuck, Hattie. I’m gonna come.”

My eyes widen at the awe and desperation in his voice.

That powerful feeling overcomes me again, from taking this man who always seems so in control and turning him out of control.

Just watching him and his reaction from my hand is mesmerizing.

His thick length pulses in my hand, and he jerks forward and groans as white cum sprays all over my chest.

Somehow, I instinctively know to keep pumping him for a moment, but with a gentler pace and grip.

Bastion brings his hands to either side of my face and bends down to kiss me. There’s so much reverence in the kiss that I don’t want to let go when he pulls away. He holds out a hand to help me up off my knees.

When I’m standing again, he glances at my breasts with a satisfied grin. I could get used to that look in his eyes. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

There’s no conversation as we shower together, but it’s not awkward.

It’s a comfortable silence as we reflect on everything that’s gone down.

He helps me rinse off, and though I hope he might take the task of soaping me down, I’m disappointed when he simply hands me the bar of soap.

This isn’t how I thought it would go. There are times Bastion is so hot and cold with me, and I wonder if it has something to do with that nightmare.

When we’re done, he holds open a large bath towel, wrapping it around me. It’s not until we step out of the en suite into his bedroom that the acrid scent of something burning makes my eyes widen.

“Shoot! The lasagna!” I run out of the room, Bastion’s laugh trailing me the whole way.

I may have ruined the lasagna, but it was totally worth it.