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Trashed (Stripped #2) Page 71
Author: Jasinda Wilder

He steps into the tub, helps me in, and then he’s lowering himself down and settling me between his thighs, and I’m relaxing against his chest. The hot water swirls around us, bubbles popping and tickling. The sudden heat is relaxing, an abrupt about-face from the frenetic urgency of my climax, which still shudders through me.

But Adam isn’t done with me, it seems. We sit in stillness and silence for a few minutes, just long enough for the aftershocks of my orgasm to fade and his erection to subside a bit, and then his hand cradles my stomach just above my pussy, his other hand smearing soapy water across my torso, cupping my boobs and caressing them and fondling them, pinching and rolling my nipples until I’m biting my lip and squirming. And then his hand slips between my thighs, covers my pussy, and his long middle finger slides in.

He massages my clit slowly, so slowly, god, so slowly. Maddeningly slowly. It takes him several minutes to bring me to quivering completion, writhing against his middle finger, just that one inside me, circling my clit and then fucking my entrance, alternating in an arrhythmic pattern.

I come with a sigh, and then he’s lifting me by the ass and I’m impaled on him, sitting on him. His knees are spread apart to bear my weight, the water sloshing around us, spilling out. His hands find mine, guide my fingers to my clit, and urge me to touch myself. So I do, and aftershocks become the precursors to something else, something bigger, and his hands are at my tits, holding on and kneading and caressing, and all I can do is ride his thrusts and let him fuck me however he wants.

“Come again, Destiny. Right now.” His command works like a trigger.

I come again, hard. And this time, I scream.

As soon as the initial wave of climax leaves me, he’s lifting me and sliding out of me, groaning and moving shakily, as if the effort to withhold his own orgasm is nearly too much.

“Adam, what game are you playing? Just come, baby,” I tell him, watching from my place in tub as he turns on the shower.

He shakes his head. “Not yet.”

He hands me up and out of the tub, leads me to the shower, and washes me. He wets my hair, lathers shampoo from scalp to tip, rinses, works conditioner in, and then his hands are scrubbing a bar of soap across my skin. I can’t not touch him, so my hands roam his shoulders, slip over the hard muscles sheathed in smooth dark skin, down to his erection, which I caress until he forces my hand away. He washes every inch of me, and then lets me do the same to him.

I run the bar of soap over his stomach, down his hips, then fall to my knees and wash his legs, and take his cock in my mouth. He lets me fondle him with my lips and tongue for a few moments, and then he’s pulling me away and pressing me against the shower wall, kissing me until I’m breathless. He kisses me beneath the spray of hot water as if I’m oxygen and he’s drowning.

“Jesus, Adam. I’m here, baby. I’m here.” I hold his cheek, water splattering off his scalp and onto my face.

He just smiles at me and shuts off the water. “Are you ready for phase two?”

I grip his cock. “So ready.”

He grin turns lust-hot. “That’s not phase two. You remember what phase two is?”

I pretend to think. “Something about eating me out, right?”

He pulls me out of the shower and wraps a towel around me, scrubs me dry as if I’m helpless to do so myself. “Until you can’t breathe, yeah.”

I return the favor, drying him off. And then I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and kiss him the way he kissed me, as if I can’t exist without his mouth on mine. “I already can’t breathe, Adam. Being with you is so…intense…so much…that it’s hard to breathe with wanting it to never end.”

His expression turns serious, thoughtful, as he leads me to the bedroom, lifts me in his arms as if I’m nothing, and lays me on the bed. “It doesn’t have to, Destiny.”

I never thought I’d say this, but I love the way my name sounds when he says it.

Shit. I just thought the “L” word.

And, somehow, it’s not as scary as it used to be.

Chapter 16

I see something in her eyes, some thought she doesn’t share. It’s not a look of fear, or nerves, or anything I recognize. It seems more like a realization.

I don’t ask, I just slide my face across her stomach, rub my cheek against her inner thigh, bury my face in her core, inhale the scent of her arousal, flick my tongue out and taste her essence. She groans, lets her knees fall open, and writhes her hips. I take my time, wiggling my tongue in slow circles around her clit until she’s gasping, her stomach tensing and relaxing with each scrape of my tongue tip against her hardened nub. And when I think she’s starting to get close, I suction my lips around her clit and work my tongue back and forth until she’s moaning and breathless.

“Yes, yes…” she groans, lifting her hips to grind against my mouth. “I’m there, I’m so close, Adam…”

And that’s my cue. I slide up her body, kissing her skin as I go, stomach, ribs, tits, neck, then lips. I align myself with her, nestle my cock against her soft folds, and slide in. She inhales as I slide home, and her heels go around my ass. I give her a slow stroke, two, a third, and then I pause, buried deep, and take a moment to lave her nipples with my tongue until she urges me to move by digging her heels into my ass.

I thrust and thrust and thrust, and she’s whimpering and gasping and shrieking in the back of her throat.

“Tell me when you’re coming, Des. Say my name when you come.” I whisper this in her ear, and she nods.

I’m close myself, but I clamp down and force it away, force my thrusts to go slow and even.

And then she’s arching her back. “Adam, god…Jesus, oh fuck I’m coming, Adam!”

I wrench myself out of her and go to my knees between her thighs and suck her clit into my mouth and work it with my tongue until she’s thrashing and I have to wrap my arms around her thighs hold her still. She grabs my head in both hands and crushes me against her pussy as I suck and lick her, her hips moving wildly to fuck my face.

And then she’s slowing and her breathless screams turn to relieved sighs.

Which is my next cue.

I slide back up and enter her, and now she forces her eyes open and watches me. “Holy shit, Adam. Are you trying to kill me? I’m not sure I can take another orgasm.”

“I think you can,” I tell her.

She shakes her head. “No. I can’t.”

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Jasinda Wilder's Novels
» Alpha (Alpha #1)
» Beta (Alpha #2)
» Trashed (Stripped #2)
» Stripped (Stripped #1)
» Wounded
» Falling Into Us (Falling #2)
» Falling Into You (Falling #1)
» Falling Away (Falling #4)
» Falling Under (Falling #3)