Page 79 of If You Were Mine (After We Fall 3)
He groaned, getting to his knees and moving in and out of me with slow, deep strokes. He looked down at me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I paused, pushing myself to be brave and say what I wanted. “I liked it that one time, but I couldn’t see you. I want to watch.” The idea had sort of come out of nowhere, but it made sense—I wanted him to let me see him like that, masculine and virile and unashamed, but vulnerable too. And I wanted to offer my body that way. It was sexual, but also intimate.
It meant we trusted each other.
I ran my hands over my stomach, my chest, my throat. “Anywhere you want. You can cover me with it.”
“Jesus,” he whispered, pulling out of me and taking his cock in his hand.
“No one’s ever done this to me before,” I whispered, eyes wide as I watched his flesh slipping through his fingers. “You’re the first.”
“Good.” Knees slightly apart, he squared his shoulders and straightened his spine. He looked like a god. The firelight burnished his skin to copper and made his dark hair glint with gold. The sculpted muscles of his arms and chest and abs flexed as he worked his fist up and down, faster and faster. His breath came hard and heavy.
“I love it. I love watching you.” I kept my hands on my breasts, playing with them just like he had. His jaw was set, his eyes hooded, his chest rising and falling with an increasing rhythm.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh God, you’re gonna make me come so hard.” His hand became a blur, his breathing even more strangled.
“Yes,” I told him, over and over again, my body tingling with anticipation.
He widened his knees, his hips thrusting his cock through his hand. I watched, riveted, as he brought himself to the edge of climax and pushed himself over, unashamed and unguarded. Finally he leaned forward slightly, angling his cock toward my chest and came all over my breasts and stomach in hot, pulsing bursts.
It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen, but even better, it made me feel closer to him than ever before.
Still breathing hard, he sat back on his heels and looked down at me. “I’m trying for words, but I think my brain is broken.”
I smiled. “It’s OK.” I started to get up, but he stopped me.
“Don’t move.” He stood up, pulled on his jeans, and disappeared for a minute. When he came back, he knelt next to me with paper towels in his hand. “Let me.” He did his best to clean me up, but my skin was still pretty sticky.
“I think I should probably just shower,” I said.
“Probably. Sorry.” He stood up and reached down for me.
“I’m not.” I put my hand in his and let him help me to my feet. “I loved every second of that. Didn’t you?”
He laughed. “Um, yes.”
“Want to get in the shower with me?”
“Again, yes. Got any more crazy questions?”
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I started gathering up my clothes, and he did the same. “Let’s take a shower, and then we’ll eat, and then we can snuggle up on the couch and watch an old movie that will probably make me cry and you can poke fun at me.”
“Poke what at you?”
“Ha. That too.”
We went upstairs and I ran a hot shower in the bathroom across the hall from my bedroom. As we slipped beneath the spray, Theo asked if he could wash my hair.
“Sure,” I said, surprised. “My shampoo is right there.” I got my hair wet and turned my back to him, smiling blissfully as he lathered my head and massaged my scalp.
Afterward, I applied the conditioner and let Theo soap me up, laughing at how serious he was taking the job, and the way he claimed every new part of my body he touched was his favorite part. When I was all rinsed off, we switched places and I lathered him up from head to toe, running my hands along all his limbs, sliding my palms over rippling abs, rising on tiptoe to wash his hair.
Once he was rinsed, he pulled me under the water with him and wrapped his arms around me. I rested my head on his chest and twined my arms around his waist. His heart beat steadily against my cheek.
