Grace for Drowning

The lust on his face as he gazed at me said he felt the same. "Fuck you're beautiful."

I loved how sexy he made me feel. After steeping myself in self-loathing for so long, it was incredible to actually feel good about myself. "Right back at you," I said.

His mouth curled into a smirk. "It's time for you to get wet."

"Might be a little late for that," I cooed,

stepping under the water.

"Is that so? Well, I'll need to see proof."

He followed me in, seizing my hair in his hands and bringing his lips crashing into mine. I reached for him, letting my fingers play across the taut coils of his shoulders. His skin was already hot and slippery, and it felt incredible beneath my touch.

Logan broke away, reaching for the soap and wash cloth. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"I think that's a good idea," I replied, almost giddy with anticipation.

He took his time, as I knew he would, starting at my shoulders and working his way down in slow circles. My breasts and my butt he ignored at first, covering the less erotic parts of my body in a thick lather. Even that contact felt amazing — the heat of the water, the slickness of the soap, the rough cloth, it was an incredibly sensual experience. The reverence with which he touched me set my heart soaring. I'd never been so lavished upon before.

"That's a good start," he said eventually, "but some parts of you are going to require special attention."

"Whatever you think is best," I said.

He dropped the cloth on the floor and began rubbing the soap in both hands, coating them, then he was reaching for my chest. Jesus Christ it felt incredible. My breasts slipped through his hands like they were liquid themselves. The roughness of his palms was still there, but it was tempered by the moisture and the foaming suds. Despite the heat, my nipples were hard peaks, and he honed in on them, stroking and teasing until I thought my body was going to catch fire. I closed my eyes and threw my head back under the shower stream, reveling in the host of sensations that were coursing through me.

His hands dropped to my hips and spun me around until my back was to him. "Put your palms against the wall," he said.

I did as he asked without even thinking. The more commanding he became during sex, the more I enjoyed it. He was so powerful, so in control, and there was something wonderfully sexy about giving in to that.

I heard him drop to his knees behind me and a shiver rolled up my spine as his hands went to my ass.

"You have no idea how sexy you look like this," he said. With almost torturous slowness, he began to massage my cheeks, squeezing and caressing as they slid through his grip. His fingertips were incredibly close to my sex, and every motion would cause them to brush against me ever so softly, drawing sharp little moans from my mouth.

"I believe you needed to see proof of something," I said, doing my best to keep my voice even.

He chuckled. "I did, didn't I?"

This time he didn't make me wait. His finger slipped inside me with ease, and all the muscles at my core tightened, savoring that foreign sensation.

"You weren't kidding," he said, his voice now heavy with lust.

His free hand rose to my ass once more, spreading my cheeks, while his thumb looped underneath to tease my clit. My knees shook. Most other guys I'd been with had been timid down there, but Logan worked with the dexterity of a master, his hands moving in perfect harmony. I'd never felt anything like it, a tantalizing chorus of sensations that seemed to immerse my entire body. A second finger joined the first, curling deep, teasing parts of me I hadn't even known existed, and my hips pushed against him in response, trying to force him deeper still. Already, there was a pressure building inside me. That luscious foreplay had left my body on a hair trigger. But before I reached that crest, he slipped out of me.

"I think you're clean enough," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. I started to object, but he rose to his feet, pressing himself against me, and suddenly all I could think about was the throbbing heat that was digging into my back. "Me on the other hand, I'm still extremely dirty."

I turned to face him. "That's true," I said, grazing my hand across his chest. "This will require a fair bit of work, but I think I'm up to the challenge." The prospect of getting to explore that body in detail was irresistible. I scooped up the soap and began. His muscles still felt impossibly hard, and I took my time dragging my fingers through every groove and channel. Every part of him was so well defined. The man had eight abs, for Christ's sake. I didn't even realize that was possible. It was even sexier now that I knew what that body was capable of. He wasn't just big for aesthetics' sake. This was real strength, potent and dangerous. I could almost feel that latent power lurking just below the surface.

Like he had, I took my time, occasionally brushing his cock, but never actually taking it in my hands. I loved the way his body tensed at those brief moments of contact. I think he was almost as ready to explode as I was. But I wasn't ready to give up my toy just yet. Like he'd done to me, I spun him around, turning my attention to the mountainous landscape of his back. I teased him, brushing my breasts across his skin while my hands cupped his ass. And, my God, what an ass it was. Tight and firm and perfectly proportioned. When a guy looks that sexy from behind, you know you've found something special.

Finally, I was done waiting.

"Maybe you should turn back around," I said.

"With pleasure."

I dropped to my knees and wrapped two soapy hands around his length. He let out a long growl. There was something intensely erotic about being on the ground before such a ferocious man, gradually bringing him undone. His hips pumped gently as I stroked him, my slickened hands gliding effortlessly over that hot skin. Somehow, he continued to grow, that gorgeous mushroom head swelling and pulsing in my grip. I wanted him so badly. All I could think about was what it was going to feel like fucking me.

Soon enough, I got my wish. His hand shot down to catch my wrist, and I expected him to make another joke about cleanliness, but the way his eyes smoldered said the time for jokes was past.