Oriana and the Three Werebears by Tia Fanning Page A

like to think of myself as candid. I wasn’t always so—or I was, but used to hide it, behaving how others expected me to behave. I’m done with that. These days, I just want to be me.” She paused, considering her own words. “Do you think that’s wrong?”
    “No. Would you like me to wash your hair or body first?”
    “Hair.”
    He rose and pulled the hand-held shower head off its holder, then turned the water on and saturated her hair thoroughly. Setting the nozzle aside, he poured shampoo into his palm. Oriana closed her eyes as he took his time lathering her head with coconut scented suds, massaging her scalp with firm pressure.
    “Your fingers are magical,” she whispered.
    As he continued, her mind drifted into the realm of possibilities, where she fantasized about his enthralling fingers producing more sensual pleasures. Between his ministrations and her erotic imaginings, her nipples tightened and her pussy tingled with wanting. By the time Jack rinsed the soap from her hair, she in a state of full-blown arousal.
    Jack applied the conditioner next, slowly smoothing the cream along her strands, from root to tip. He repeated the process over and over again, his fingers coaxing sighs and moans from her lips—and she didn’t even care. Thankfully, he remained blessedly silent, not commenting on her wanton behavior, though she refused to open her eyes, afraid he would show some form of disapproval or discouragement in his expression.
    By the second rinse, she barely restrained herself from begging him to fuck her good and hard. Damn, it had been far too long since she’d been touched by a man.
    A few moments later, she felt his hands gently lift a leg. Still residing in her self-imposed darkness, she lost herself in the caresses of a soft, soapy mesh sponge as it glided across her skin in slow, steady strokes. Satisfied, he moved on to the other leg and gave it the same treatment, from the tips of her toes to mid thigh and back again.
    Just as she felt that he was about to withdraw, she bit her bottom lip, not wanting him to cease his attentions, but not wanting to seem desperate by requesting that he keep going, lest he think her too easy.
    She found herself asking anyway.
    “Please don’t stop,” she whispered.
    “You don’t want to do the rest yourself?”
    When Oriana shook her head, he worked the mesh up her hips and across her torso, but no higher. She took a deep breath and pushed her chest out, silently indicating that he should attend that area as well.
    Sensing his hesitation, she placed her hand over his and moved the puffy sponge back and forth over her breasts, her sexual desires overpowering any reservations she had about propriety. Unfortunately, the rubbing only served to whet the carnal cravings that resided within. She increased the pressure, writhing beneath the mesh material as it scrubbed over her taut nipples, which produced a delightful sting that shot rapid bursts of pleasure straight to her core. Her pussy throbbed, hovering near orgasmic bliss, but needing more stimulation to push her over the edge.
    Intertwining her fingers with his, she guided the pouf down her length, and lower still, opening her thighs wide and brushing it against her swollen, sensitized nub. Up and down, up and down, harder and harder, she arched into it the mesh ball, gasping as she succumbed to a clitoral climax.
    Flooded by the euphoric sensations that surged through her body, she clamped her thighs together and rode the waves of pleasure until she was limp and breathless.
    Lost in a world of darkness and delight, she barely acknowledged Jack’s hand as it withdrew from between her legs. He lifted her out of the water and gathered her close to his chest. She laid her head on his shoulder as he put a towel across her body and carried her from the bathroom.
    After a long walk down the hall, he placed her on a bed and began to carefully dry her off. Her fatigue had returned in full force. She was almost