Page 28

I carefully step Myra out of the water. I’m squeezing the excess from her hair when, yet again, Myra takes my plans, and throws them right out the fucking window.

Instead of preparing to get out and dry off, she leans into me, pupils dilated. “Now it’s my turn, right?”

“Your turn to, wha—” I don’t get the last word out, because her slick palm grips the length of my dick tight.

It’s unexpected and encompassing, and I’m forced to slam one hand against the tile wall to maintain my upright position as she gives me a long stroke, fisting tight from root to tip.

As if that isn’t bad enough, when she gets to the tip, she gives it a little flick of her wrist, making sure to hit every god damn nerve ending at the head before sliding back to the base.

“My turn to make sure you’re all clean.” Myra shifts, and the next pass of her palm against my skin is smoother. It pulls a groan from my chest and has my free hand flexing where it grips her hip.

“I’m clean enough.” I fight the words out and try to push her away, but my hips chase her grip, making the move pointless.

“Maybe.” Myra’s tone is soft as she continues pumping my dick, pace and grip steady. “But I feel like I should make sure.”

I don’t know what in the hell she’s doing down there. Whether it’s that fucking wrist flip she’s got happening, or the way she’s using her body wash to rub the scent of her all over my cock, but my balls are pulling tight and my spine’s tingling in an embarrassingly short period of time.

“Myra.” I drop my forehead to hers. “You’ve gotta stop, baby.”

“I don’t think so.” Myra doesn’t slow down and she doesn’t back off. “I want to be sure I get everything.”

I’m afraid I know what she means when she says everything . And when she leans in and flicks her tongue against my nipple, the everything she’s getting hits the soft curve of her belly, splattering against her smooth skin as I groan against her wet hair, coming for what feels like fucking forever.

When I look down, sucking in as much air as I can get, the sight of my cum on her body makes my dick flex again, painting a final spurt right onto her cute little belly button.

Before my brain has the chance to come back online, my hand is on her skin, spreading my cum over the slick softness of her body.

I know I should stop—I always do—but I don’t. I keep going, letting the slickness guide my way as I palm the weight of one breast, thumbing across her nipple.

The glisten of my spend across her is like a fucking drug. One that steals any sense I’ve ever had and has me acting like a fucking Neanderthal, marking my territory like I have the right.

Reaching behind me, I twist off the water, unable to make myself rinse away the mess I made. I want to know it’s there.

I want her to know it’s there.

Flinging back the shower curtain, I grab a towel from the rack and wrap it around her body. Once it’s tucked into place, I scoop her up, ignoring the water trailing down my body as I carry her into the bedroom.

I doubt she wants our wet bodies soaking into the blankets, so I set her right at the edge, legs dangling over one side.

Then I drop to my knees, finally getting back to the original plan I had.

Myra’s brows pinch together as she scoots back, thinking she needs more room to sit. “What are you?—”

I grab the towel and flip it up out of my way before hooking my arms behind her knees to drag her back to the edge.

Back within reach.

“Simon?” Myra seems genuinely confused, and I fucking love it.

And hate it.

I love that it seems like I’ll be the first one to do it. Hate that she’s never had it before.

She deserves to be worshiped. Adored. Pleasured.

Fucking consumed.

When my mouth fixes to her pussy, she gasps, the sound startled and shocked.

But she’s not shocked for long.

“Oh my Go—” The word abruptly cuts off as one hand fumbles around my shoulder, looking for something to hang onto as her head falls back. “ Simon .”

Hearing my name fall from her lips as my tongue is against her clit has my dick hardening again.

It’s going to have to get over it. I obviously can’t act right, so no more coming until I know I won’t try to mark every damn inch of her.

And that’s probably a good thing, because I’m positive if Myra asked me to fuck her right now, I would. And she’s not ready for that. Not only because I know once I fuck her there won’t be any going back, but also because she’s obviously intimidated by my size.

And I’ll be damned if I ever hurt her.

Releasing one leg, I use the shoulder still wedged under her thigh to keep her balanced while I ease my middle and ring fingers into her body. She’s so fucking hot. So tight. So soft and so tempting.

The feel of her clenching around my fingers makes me groan as I curve them upward and slowly finger fuck her in time with the flick of my tongue against her clit.

“Ahh—” Myra’s hips flex, and I can’t tell if she’s working with me or against me as she grips the blankets beneath her with one hand and my wet hair with the other.

“ Simm-onn .” My name is a wail as her cunt suddenly clamps down, her inner muscles flexing as once again her orgasm hits out of nowhere.

I drag it out, tonguing her clit and stroking into her until she sucks in a sharp breath and shoves my head away.

And I must still be a fucking flat-foot, mouth-breathing caveman, because I pull my fingers from her body and grip her thighs, spreading them wide so I can lick up the drenched line of her slit, claiming every drop.

I created it. It’s mine.

Just like she is.