Page 157 of Marrying My Ex's Brother
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you push back.”
That’s all it takes. He grabs my hips, turns me under the water, and kisses me again. His hands are everywhere. My waist. My ass. My breasts. He cups both tits, thumbs dragging over my nipples while the water makes my skin slick under his hands.
I gasp into his mouth. He squeezes harder.
Not enough to hurt. Enough to make my pussy clench.
“Yaromir.”
His mouth drops to my breast. The shower water runs over his hair, down his scar, over his shoulders as he bends and sucks my nipple into his mouth. I cry out, one hand gripping the back of his neck, the other braced against the tile. He sucks hard, then bites lightly, and pleasure shoots through me and I press my thighs together.
His hand slides down my stomach. “Open.”
My face burns. “Here?”
His eyes lift to mine. “Here.”
I open for him. His fingers find my pussy immediately, and I’m already wet, not only from the shower. He feels the difference. His mouth curves against my skin.
“Still sore?” he asks.
“Yes.”
His fingers move carefully over my clit, slow circles that make my breath break. “Too sore?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Words.”
“No,” I whisper. “Not too sore.”
He kisses me again as his fingers work me open. Slowly at first. One finger sliding inside me while his thumb strokes my clit. I grip his shoulders, gasping into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the water hitting tile.
I’m tender. Every touch is too much.
Every touch is exactly what I want.
He adds another finger, and I tense.
He stops immediately. “Too much?”
I shake my head again, then remember. “No. Just… slow.”
He goes slow. That almost makes it worse.
His fingers move inside me with awful patience while his thumb keeps circling my clit. My hips start moving before I can stop them. Small at first. Then needier. He watches my face while I ride his hand in the shower, and the look in his eyes makes me feel naked in a way the water can’t explain.
“You like it when I’m careful,” he says.
I hate that my body reacts to the words. “I like it when you stop talking.”
“No, you don’t.”
He curls his fingers inside me, and I gasp.
