she drew her dark hair over one shoulder and eased back against his hand as he rubbed the bar down her spine in a soft, rich lather.
He had great hands. She purred from contentment as his palms cupped her buttocks, washing her slowly, thoroughly. When she felt the bar of soap tease the crack between her cheeks, she gasped against the tile.
A chuckle rumbled from behind her. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m just washing you up. I’m not going to take advantage of you.” He leaned down and kissed her shoulder. “Yet.”
A thrill ran through her at his naughty promise. He had a magical touch with her and it made her giddy with need. She turned to face him, accidentally knocking the soap from his slippery hands.
It landed behind his foot, near the drain.
Catherine looked at him from beneath the cover of her damp eyelashes. “My turn,” she said, trailing a finger over his bare chest and down his flat stomach as she dropped to her knees on the rubber bath mat. Her finger stopped at the dark blond trail of hair descending from his navel. With her other hand, she reached around his legs and grabbed the soap. Still looking at him, she smiled, reached up and rubbed the white bar across his lower belly.
He groaned, closing his eyes.
She rubbed again and he leaned forward, bracing himself on the tiled wall behind her.
The water rinsed away the lather, sending bubbly rivers down his legs as she cleaned his stirring hard-on.
“Jesus,” he breathed, water pouring over his neck as he hung his head. “You excite the hell out of me, Cat.”
She put the soap back in the tray. “Just wait,” she purred, kissing the tip of his cock.
Air hissed through his clenched teeth as he inhaled. He let go of the wall with one hand and threaded his fingers through her wet hair. Their gazes locked and his palm cupped the back of her head as she parted her lips, taking him deep in her mouth.
Catherine felt the shiver course through his body. She remembered how much he had loved being sucked off, and she had always been happy to oblige. Giving him pleasure was almost as good as receiving it from this delicious man.
Almost.
Her tongue rolled around the tip and down the shaft as she took him farther down her throat. In and out, in and out. His fingers gripped her head tighter, holding her still as he pumped into her mouth.
The shower cascaded, cocooning them in a warm heaven of their own making. Nothing mattered except the two of them, here and now, and it felt good.
He bucked faster, gripped tighter. She knew he was close. “Can’t...hold on,” he rasped, then moved his other hand to her head and held her hard against him, his cock deep inside her mouth. Hot, salty cum slid down her throat and she swallowed, sucking him harder as a powerful orgasm shook his body. Her pussy quivered in response. The guttural sounds he made when he came were sexy as hell.
She smiled against his cock, licking the last drops from the tip, evoking another shudder from him as he stroked her hair.
Regardless of what happened later, they would enjoy each other as long as the storm lasted. For the first time, Catherine wished for the worst weather in the history of Maple Knob, Vermont.
Chapter Eight
Catherine awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon. She rolled over and stared at her surroundings. It took her a moment to remember where she was and how she got here. Like a flood, it came rushing back to her in fragmented scenes. Even in the chilly room, heat burned her face as she recalled the sex marathon she and Luke had begun last night. It was like they were trying to make up for all the years apart. She sat up in bed, wincing a little at the wonderful soreness she felt this morning from so much lusty fun. She giggled. She didn ’t care if she was black and blue this morning, it was worth every second.
She stood and stretched, working out the kinks. Honestly, she was looking forward to more, at least until—
The weather! She ran to
He had great hands. She purred from contentment as his palms cupped her buttocks, washing her slowly, thoroughly. When she felt the bar of soap tease the crack between her cheeks, she gasped against the tile.
A chuckle rumbled from behind her. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m just washing you up. I’m not going to take advantage of you.” He leaned down and kissed her shoulder. “Yet.”
A thrill ran through her at his naughty promise. He had a magical touch with her and it made her giddy with need. She turned to face him, accidentally knocking the soap from his slippery hands.
It landed behind his foot, near the drain.
Catherine looked at him from beneath the cover of her damp eyelashes. “My turn,” she said, trailing a finger over his bare chest and down his flat stomach as she dropped to her knees on the rubber bath mat. Her finger stopped at the dark blond trail of hair descending from his navel. With her other hand, she reached around his legs and grabbed the soap. Still looking at him, she smiled, reached up and rubbed the white bar across his lower belly.
He groaned, closing his eyes.
She rubbed again and he leaned forward, bracing himself on the tiled wall behind her.
The water rinsed away the lather, sending bubbly rivers down his legs as she cleaned his stirring hard-on.
“Jesus,” he breathed, water pouring over his neck as he hung his head. “You excite the hell out of me, Cat.”
She put the soap back in the tray. “Just wait,” she purred, kissing the tip of his cock.
Air hissed through his clenched teeth as he inhaled. He let go of the wall with one hand and threaded his fingers through her wet hair. Their gazes locked and his palm cupped the back of her head as she parted her lips, taking him deep in her mouth.
Catherine felt the shiver course through his body. She remembered how much he had loved being sucked off, and she had always been happy to oblige. Giving him pleasure was almost as good as receiving it from this delicious man.
Almost.
Her tongue rolled around the tip and down the shaft as she took him farther down her throat. In and out, in and out. His fingers gripped her head tighter, holding her still as he pumped into her mouth.
The shower cascaded, cocooning them in a warm heaven of their own making. Nothing mattered except the two of them, here and now, and it felt good.
He bucked faster, gripped tighter. She knew he was close. “Can’t...hold on,” he rasped, then moved his other hand to her head and held her hard against him, his cock deep inside her mouth. Hot, salty cum slid down her throat and she swallowed, sucking him harder as a powerful orgasm shook his body. Her pussy quivered in response. The guttural sounds he made when he came were sexy as hell.
She smiled against his cock, licking the last drops from the tip, evoking another shudder from him as he stroked her hair.
Regardless of what happened later, they would enjoy each other as long as the storm lasted. For the first time, Catherine wished for the worst weather in the history of Maple Knob, Vermont.
Chapter Eight
Catherine awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon. She rolled over and stared at her surroundings. It took her a moment to remember where she was and how she got here. Like a flood, it came rushing back to her in fragmented scenes. Even in the chilly room, heat burned her face as she recalled the sex marathon she and Luke had begun last night. It was like they were trying to make up for all the years apart. She sat up in bed, wincing a little at the wonderful soreness she felt this morning from so much lusty fun. She giggled. She didn ’t care if she was black and blue this morning, it was worth every second.
She stood and stretched, working out the kinks. Honestly, she was looking forward to more, at least until—
The weather! She ran to
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