“Come with me.”
As she sat up, he rolled to the side. “How about I watch?”
“If that’s what you want.”
The growl that came at her was a big, fat yes, ma’am if she’d ever heard one—and far be it from her not to start the show early: As she got off the bed naked, she deliberately stretched her arms over her head and arched her back, her br**sts heavy and taut.
Especially as she cupped them both, and thumbed the tips.
“God…damn,” he groaned.
Mels took her own sweet time walking around the end of the bed, letting him look at her body as her hands went to her hips and then her butt. There was such freedom in the privacy, and the way the light from the desk hit her from the side, and how his hot stare followed her every move.
“You coming with me?” she asked.
“Yeah…” He went to sit up, but then frowned, looking down at himself in confusion. “Ah…yeah.”
“You can keep your clothes on,” she said gently, not wanting him to feel embarrassed. “And there’s plenty of room in the bath.”
He shook his head like he was clearing it. “Yeah.” He laughed awkwardly. “By the way, that appears to be the extent of my vocabulary at the moment.”
Flashing him her backside again, she heard the rustling of him getting off the bed, and then his warm palms were on her waist and he pulled her against him. Kissing her shoulder, his hands moved around and palmed her br**sts, lifting them, caressing them.
“Mels…God, you feel good.” He nuzzled her nape and went behind her ear. “You’re…”
“Wouldn’t you like to see how talented I can be with a bar of soap?”
“Oh, f**k.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”
Inside the loo, she leaned in and started the shower while Matthias put the toilet seat down and lowered himself onto it, rubbing his jaw like he was hungry and looking forward to a meal.
“You’ll be leaving that open, of course,” he said.
“The curtain?”
“Yeah.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’m going to rip it down off that rod.”
She pushed the thing out of the way. “Well, we can’t have you wrecking the place.”
Mels stepped under the warm spray and went into another arch, putting the front of her body into the water. Then she turned and soaked her hair, letting her head fall back on her spine, the rush from above feeling like hands all over her.
His hands.
The soap was one that the hotel provided, a little bar that had been worn down by his use—and as she wet it, she smelled ginger, the humid air carrying the fragrance upward into her nose.
So slippery.
Across her neck and to her br**sts, then farther, to her belly and over her hips…she went everywhere with the soap, the suds covering her skin before sliding downward in delicious trails—some of which went between her thighs.
Matthias was frozen where he sat, his eyes all over her, as if there were too much for him to look at—
For a moment, she lost her rhythm, that mystery of the healing returning to her…but then he spoke up.
“Do you need some help with your back?”
The rasping sound of his voice refocused her. “Patience.”
“Don’t have any.”
“Learn some.” As he cursed, vile and low, she smiled at him and leaned down to her legs, letting her br**sts hang slick and full. “It’s good for the soul.”
“So are you. And for godsakes—don’t stop, ever.”
Happy to comply, she was slow and careful with her ankle and her calf, her ni**les swaying back and forth, brushing the top of her thigh as she worked—
“Let me take over from here.” He leaned forward and snagged the soap. “Oh, sweet Jesus…I have to touch you.”
She was not going to deny him. Anything.
He wet his hands in the waterfall that had formed off the side of her hip; then he was on her flesh, the silky suds magnifying the contact as he swept up the back of her leg and lingered so close to her core…before attending to her inner thigh, stroking, plying, getting her hot in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature of the shower or the air in the room.
Mels closed her eyes.
She was at once in her flesh and flying free of it, grounded on the tile and soaring in the air, stretched between the extremes of wanting this delicious torture to last forever…and being desperate to get to the release that was even now threatening to bring her to her knees.
“Give me your other leg.”
Opening her lids, Mels put her hand on his shoulder to balance herself and lifted her opposite foot.
All she could think about was his head between her thighs.
“You’re getting wet,” she said roughly.
His burning eyes lifted to hers. “I hope that makes two of us.” As she nodded, he laughed in the back of his throat. “Say it for me.”
“Say what.”
“How wet you are, right here…” His hand swept to her core, his long fingers slipping into the heat, rubbing just enough to have her crying out—before easing free. “Say it.”
He picked that moment to open his mouth and slide what had touched her in between his lips, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucked, a sound of approval resonating in his chest.
“Say it,” he commanded.
Mels could only moan something relatively close to, “I’m so wet….”
His smile was all bad boy with fantastically dirty intentions. “You going to wash your hair for me?”
He stared at her br**sts as he spoke, like he was picturing them moving back and forth as she worked her arms over her head.
Roger. That. And then hopefully they could go back to other things…
It was the work of a moment to grab the little bottle. The cap was already off, and as she poured the shampoo into her palm, the stuff was honey-thick and golden yellow in color.
Matthias’s eyes stuck to her br**sts as she reached up to the crown of her head. Sure enough, the back-and-forth motion was carried to what he was so captivated by, and she knew she was getting to him by the way he stroked her leg from ankle to thigh, going a little higher with every pass.
Until he was where she wanted him to be.
As his slick fingers touched her sex again, she jerked in pleasure—and that was good timing for the rinse part. With the water carrying the shampoo out of her hair, he teased and probed, the friction taking her to the brink.