Page 71 of For Your Eyes Only
First, I left one shoe in the entrance hallway. The next a few feet along. I stopped just inside the kitchen and unfastened the delicate chain holding up the silky hose speckled with tiny rhinestones and left them in a glittering puddle.
A few steps more, I peeled the taupe mask from my face and left it on the table. At his bedroom door, I shimmied out of the nude leotard with clusters of rhinestones in critical locations. It came out exactly as I hoped, and I’m obsessed with this costume.
Still, I left it at his bedroom door, and with nothing left to remove, I went to the shower to wash the stage makeup and shimmering body paint off my skin.
I’ve just finished rubbing the last of the makeup off me when I turn to see him standing in the doorway, watching me, and a thrill races to my core.
Reaching out, I push the glass door open. He looks like a model in his suit pants, no blazer. His light green dress shirt is unbuttoned at the neck and rolled at the sleeves to expose his heavy, silver watch. One hand is in his pocket, and a grin curls the side of his sexy mouth.
My stomach trembles, and I’m not sure what to say. I want him to join me, but for some reason, he’s holding back, watching.
Sliding my tongue out to touch my bottom lip, I massage my hands over my stomach, sliding them higher. “Do you like what you see?”
“Very much.” His eyes slide from my mouth down to my breasts and lower, making my body weak. “I could watch you all night.”
Turning my back, I look over my shoulder at him. “You can do more than watch. Care to join me?”
The dimple in his cheek appears through his dark scruff, and he takes the hand out of his pocket, methodically unbuttoning his shirt. Chewing my lip, my blood starts to heat as I watch him strip off his clothes.
His shirt is gone, and I admire the lines in his chest dusted lightly with hair. The muscles in his stomach flex, and the lines in his hips drop in a V into his dark gray pants. He unzips them, allowing them to fall, then he reaches down to fist his erection, slowly pumping it up and down.
Desire clenches my core, and I take the hand-held shower attachment out of its holder, switching it on to pulsing mode. Watching him tug his cock, I lower the sprayer down my stomach to my bare pussy and begin to circle it over my clit.
I’m so hot already, the first pass makes my stomach jerk, and I exhale a moan. His eyes flash, and I turn to face the wall, placing my arm on the stone surface and arching my back as I spread my feet wider.
The sprayer is between my legs, and I rock on it, simulating our movements when he’s fucking me from behind.
“Fucking hell.” The heat of his body is at my backside, and his rough hands slide over my wet skin, moving straight to my breasts as his lips press against my neck.
Electricity races through me, and I have to move the sprayer away before I come. His hands grope me hungrily, and I moan louder, dropping my head back on his shoulder. I love his obsession with my body. I’ve never felt so desired and sexy. It makes me want to do anything he says.
“You make my dick so hard,” he groans in my ear. “I want to fuck you raw like an animal.”
A sizzle races from my hard nipples, made harder by his fingers pinching and twisting them, to my slippery core, growing wetter with every dirty word.
I’m breathless as I rock my ass against his cock. “Okay.”
“You want that?” He bites the side of my ear, and his large hand covers mine holding the shower attachment. “You want me to hold you down? Fuck you mercilessly, not letting you up until I’ve spent my load inside you?”
As he speaks, he returns the water jets to my clit, circling slowly.
“Yes,” I gasp as the tendrils of orgasm radiate through my thighs, heat tingling in my core only his cock can soothe.
“You want me to push you over the couch, face first, and spank your ass as I thrust into you again and again?” More circling of the water jets, and I rise onto my toes.
“Yes… God, yes.”
“What if I make you swallow my cock, then fuck your mouth like the dirty girl you are?”
“Oh, God!” My orgasm crests, and he presses me against the wall, driving his iron rod roughly into my clenching depths.
One hand grips my hips, and I reach down to take the spray attachment from him, to continue what he started as he grips me with both hands, slamming into me from behind.
He’s impossibly hard, relentlessly thrusting, and it feels so fucking good. When my orgasm turns from pleasure to pain, I drop the attachment, curling my fingers against the glass with my eyes squeezed shut.
His beard brushes against my shoulder, and I moan as he hits my G-spot, sparking another round of orgasm radiating in my core. “Fuck, Gia, fuck me…”
My palms flatten on the glass, and I push back, sending him deeper, so he hits that magical spot again and again.