Thirty-Two

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On shaky legs, I patiently wait as Gatlin scrubs my body.

He's careful, smiling slightly as his hand drags a washcloth across my skin. With special care, he drifts across my breasts and to my belly button. I tense and lean away as his hand smooths lower, falling between my legs.

"Speechless?" He teases, smirking. "I didn't know it was possible."

"You're the one who... who..."

When my sentence ends abruptly and I don't seek to finish it, Gatlin moves closer.

"Who what, Blue? I'm the one who?"

Who ate my pussy...

Slowly, he cages me against the cold shower glass. Gulping, I lean back as far as I can, and pray I can keep my eyes off the impressive appendage at the base of his Adonis Bow. It's been hard for a while, and I want to touch it—to taste it.

Like he tasted me.

I'd had his fingers on my clit before and the brief exchange of his tongue feathering across it before, but nothing like this. I don't know how much time passed as he held me up, notching one of my legs over his shoulder to keep me stable while he feasted on me. He kept his mouth sealed against my pussy, plunging his tongue over and over where it would affect me the most.

I don't remember much after that. Only the roar in my ears and the wild pumping of my blood. Something hot scorched my stomach, building and building until I couldn't fight it anymore.

He wrung two orgasms out of me. One after the other, leaving me starry-eyed and slack jawed for ten minutes. Mercifully, he pulled me into the shower to clean me off.

My gosh... I hadn't wanted him to touch me while I was sweaty and covered in grime, but he hadn't seemed to mind. In fact, I don't think I've ever encountered a more hungered look on his face.

"Who won't let me touch him..."

Surprise flickers across his face, raising his eyebrows and robbing him of his snarky grin. Good. He deserves to feel out of sorts.

"You'll get your turn, Blue. I promise."

"When?" He told me I could touch him when I was rid of Catrina. She's gone. Why can't I touch him?

Shaking his head, he wrings out the towel and grabs the other, handing it out to me. "Now."

Baffled, I stare at him in silence. Water pelts his skin, running down the hollows of his insane body. Smooth muscles writhe when he moves, driving my thoughts directly into the gutter and bringing wetness to my pussy.

I want his mouth there again.

I'd never felt pleasure like that before.

"Are you going to repay the favor or should I do it myself?"

"No! No, I'll... I'll do it."

But I'm still caged by his massive frame, head leaning on the thick glass. Sucking in a cleansing breath, I dangle the washcloth under the spray. Gatlin hands me his bottle of bodywash, and still he doesn't move away.

Suds bloom on his skin. They mix with the shower deluge, painting his body a bubbly white before it swirls down the drain. Navy sapphires study me—assess me—with undeniable heat.

The longer our gazes hold, the tighter his jaw clenches. Soon, his hands follow suit and fisting near my head. "If you don't hurry, I won't be able to help myself."

A smirk lifts my mouth. "Who says I want you to?"

Those words power me through the shower. I repeat them in my head as he shuts off the water and towels me dry. He pushes my hands away when I try to do the same to me, and then he lifts me into his arms to carry me back to his bed.

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