The crazy thing is, the more he refuses to have penetrative sex with me, the more I want it. It’s starting to be all I think about. And it’s not just sex in general. It’s sex with Leo. Period. End of story. I want him to be my first time. It’s more than his skill, which is fucking amazing. Not that I have anything to compare it with. I just really like the things he does to me and how he makes me feel when he’s doing them—like I’m the most beautiful, sexiest woman he’s ever been with. Like he can’t believe he’s with me.
I like the things we’ve done together and I want more. So much more. I want him to fulfill the wicked promise in his eyes when he’s got me naked and is going crazy on me. I want what I’ve only read about in books and seen in movies. I want a connection with someone I trust and care about who cares about me.
I don’t think about any of that as I open the shower door and step inside. I’m scared and excited all at the same time, gripping the condoms, one in each hand.
Leo braces himself on the tiled wall, his head bent, letting the water run down his back. I carefully set the condoms on the shampoo shelf and slip my arms around him.
He starts, nearly hitting his head on the shower nozzle. “What are you doing?”
His question is full of knowledge and uncertainty. He knows what I’m doing, but he’s not sure he should allow it…however much he wants to. And as I slide my hands down his body, I feel how very much he wants to. I stroke him how he showed me, how he likes it. He lowers his head again and lets me. The slick feel of my breasts against his skin makes my nipples hard. I move back and forth, grazing them across his back. It feels so good. Touching him feels good. He’s hard in my hands and getting harder.
“Faster,” he murmurs. “Harder…Yeah, like that.” He breaths through his nose, his body is almost as rigid as his dick.
“I want you, Leo,” I whisper. “I want you inside me.”
I can’t believe how bold I’ve become. I reach for a condom and tear it open with my teeth.
His head jerks up at the sound. “What are you doing?”
“No more talking.”
“Cora.” There’s something in his voice that’s not quite surprise, as though he sees that what’s between us is inevitable.
He turns suddenly and I’m in his arms, pressed between the shower wall and his body. His mouth takes mine in a kiss that’s desperate and punishing. He’s mad and glad and hornier than hell. He wants me. I can feel it in the way both he and his body respond to me. I hardly have to make an effort and he’s all over me. His hand is on my breast, doing wicked things. He pulls and twists, but it’s gentle and makes me wet. His fingers slide through the slickness. I know now—thanks to him—what my body is seeking, what’s building inside me. I give over to it.
He replaces his hand with his mouth on my breast and holy fucking God, stars explode behind my eyelids.
I grip the wrist of the hand that’s between my legs and show him what I want, quickening his strokes. “Faster,” I gasp. I’m getting so close.
He mutters something I can’t make out.
I’m all sensation now. Everything he does adds another layer of pleasure until I think I can’t take it anymore and then BAM. I bite his shoulder to keep from crying out. He holds me through it. He tells me I’m beautiful and kisses me, smoothing the wet stands of hair back from my face. I can feel how much he cares about me in the gentle way he helps steady me. I hadn’t realized that I’d all but climbed him.
“You’re really good at that,” I tell him.
“You make me want to be better.”
“I don’t think you could get any better.”
“Sounds like a challenge,” he says against my neck, where he’s doing something with his teeth and tongue that makes my knees nearly give out.
His penis is hard against my belly. I slide my hand up and down its length. I want it where his hand just was. I want him to thrust all the way into me, pinning me to the shower wall. I want him to lose his mind, driving into me over and over. I want to scream out his name while he’s inside me and hear his heavy grunt when he comes.
I try to do to him what he did to me, trailing a line of kisses under his jaw to his ear. My hands are full of him. I have one hand on his ass and one hand wrapped around his dick. I have him just where I want him.
“Fuck me, Leo,” I whisper next to his ear.
A shudder runs through him.
“Come inside me.”
His only response is a low moan and his hand sliding between my legs. He doesn’t play fair. Too soon he’s got me panting and I lose the rhythm of my strokes on his dick. I’m not going to let him make me come again without being inside me.
The condom. Damn it. I dropped it somewhere behind him. I’m not thinking about anything but that condom and getting it on him. I lean past him, making him move to the side. I bend over to find it.
“Holy fuck.”
I look up at him over my shoulder. His eyes are glued to my ass. I renew my effort to find the condom. He grips my waist from behind. His cock slides against my butt cheeks. I have a split second of uncertainty and then he slips a finger into my pussy from the back and another one from the front. I’m suddenly full of him in a most unexpected way. He curls his body over mine. I put a hand on the wall to steady myself against the twin thrusts of his fingers.
He knows how to touch. In no time at all I’m close to coming, but I won’t do it like this. I won’t let him get away with chickening out again. I bite the inside of my cheek. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. Behind me, Leo’s movements are hurried. He hooks his finger in such a way that every time it brushes over some undiscovered spot inside me it makes me whimper.
I start to rise, but he reaches around and tweaks my nipple. That’s all it takes. I can’t hold back. My orgasm barrels through me. Behind me, Leo thrusts between my cheeks and his hand. He holds me to him as he too, climaxes, that deep growl reverberating off the tiled walls as his hot cum shoots onto my back.
Goddamn it. I pound my fist against the tile. Not again.
Wrapping me in his arms, he rights us. He holds me tight against him, my back to his front. He presses his lips to my shoulder and murmurs something against my skin. His touch is tender and gentle as he moves us into the spray of the shower, letting the water run between us as he rinses away the only evidence of our coupling. He turns me and kisses me, cupping my face in his hands. And then he reaches for the soap. Covering me in lather, he washes me, taking his time with the parts of my body he especially likes. I do the same to him, luxuriating in all of the ways his body is different from mine. The hard planes of his stomach, the coarseness of the hair on his legs, the way his muscles bunch and flex when I hit an especially sensitive spot, and the way his penis reacts to what I’m doing.
Before I know it, he’s got me plastered against the shower wall, his hands and mouth doing wicked things to me. He hooks my leg over his shoulder and uses his mouth on me. I didn’t think I could come again, but I should know him better than that by now. When I can finally stand without falling over, I go down on my knees in front of him. He tries to wave me off, but I ignore him and take him into my mouth. He coaxes and teaches me how to do it the way he likes. Slapping his palm to the wall to steady himself, he comes in my mouth, gently massaging the back of my head in encouragement.
Somehow this act feels more intimate than anything else we’ve done. I feel like we’ve reached some kind of compromise with it. This is the only line we’ll cross. I won’t push for more.
Not yet.