Cursed by Nicole Camden Page B

that’s not all we’re going to do with those jets, darling,” Lille purred, and began stripping off her sweater and T-shirt.
    His eyes followed her hands, but he didn’t reach for her. “I’ll aim them wherever you like,” he said gruffly as she dropped her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her breasts were taut and aching.
    â€œYou’ve got the prettiest tits, Lille,” Max murmured, reaching out to stroke them, running his fingers over the slopes and curves, barely grazing the nipples before skating away. Lille found herself leaning toward him, wanting him to keep stroking and teasing forever. She felt as if she could lose herself in the barely there caress of his rough fingertips, wanting him to pinch and squeeze, but not wanting this soft, dreaming pleasure to end, either.
    He brushed some sand off her left breast.
    Lille laughed and came to herself. “I don’t know about you, Max darling, but I’m hoping those jets can take care of my sand problem.”
    â€œToo right, lass. Best strip down. I’ll make sure you get the sand out of all the cracks and crevices.”
    â€œYou’re too kind.” Lille rolled her eyes and pushed her pajama bottoms down, liking the way his eyes fastened between her legs. His nostrils flared, and he touched himself through his jeans.
    â€œGet in the shower, lass,” he ordered, and Lille obeyed, moving past him, making sure to brush her turgid nipples against him as she moved past.
    The spray from five separate jets hit her, making her gasp. The water stung a bit as it hit her nipples, her backside, between her legs, her back, but it felt good as well. After a moment, she relaxed and the jets were nothing but pleasant.
    Max joined her, his broad shoulders blocking the spray that had been hitting her front, so now only water from overhead poured down on her, running in more gentle rivulets down her face and over her nose and mouth.
    He adjusted her position so that one of the nozzles was jetting right between the cheeks of her ass; not only was it cleaning away the sand, but it felt . . . like she was being slowly invaded. The wet heat sliding over her and the pleasure of the pulsing jets made her feel loose and relaxed. Max knew it, too, the devil, and his dick was hard against her stomach. He hitched her up a little and spread the cheeks of her ass with his fingers.
    He bit gently at the tendon running between her neck and shoulder, making her gasp.
    â€œI want to fuck you like this, with the spray going inside you.”
    Lille nodded, eager for it, eager for him, and kissed him as he leaned her against the wall with the jet, making sure the spray was penetrating her.
    Gasping, Lille clung to him as he pulled away just enough to adjust himself so that he could slide inside her. It hurt a little, he felt almost too big with the water having washed her clean, but even that felt right. She liked that he had to work harder to get all the way inside, work harder for every inch he thrust inside her, while at the same time the pulsing jets of the shower were working her open the other way, penetrating her. Lille had never felt anything like it, receiving Max’s careful, grinding thrusts at the same time as the water pushed and invaded her from behind. She could feel her climax building, her sex getting tighter around Max’s dick, squeezing him and making him groan. When she came, she felt as if she came in both her pussy and her ass, her insides vibrating and liquefying, tightening and squeezing Max inside her until he came with a roar, his hips jerking.
    After a moment, the water still jetting into her began to hurt, and she nudged him to get her away from the spray. He did, tugging her into the middle of the shower and pulling his shampoo from a shelf.
    It smelled like him—Bulgari. “No Irish Spring?” she questioned, as he held it up for her.
    He snorted. “It’s no’ half bad,