“Congratulations,” he growls, leaning into me, pushing me backward over the counter. “You found the one time that I don’t want to watch you get yourself off.”
He crushes his mouth against mine, invades me with his tongue. His teeth slide against my lip, send shivers down my spine even as the steam from the shower is billowing against the ceiling, floating down, winding around us.
“You don’t?” I ask, still teasing.
“I’d much rather do it myself.”
His lips drop: my neck, collarbone. He doesn’t let my hands go, keeps his locked tightly around my wrists. I struggle against them for half a second but it’s just for show, and he laughs with his lips around one nipple.
Seth bites, sucks. I moan. The bathroom heats, the water in the shower pounding down, steam curling through the air until my skin is warm and damp. Lips against my raven tattoo, dragging over my stomach, the slight hill of my lower belly.
I part my thighs without being told, Seth on his knees in front of me. He looks up at me as his tongue finds my clit, gently, gently teases it, and I whimper.
His hands tighten around my wrists and he teases, teases, the lightest touch on the single most sensitive point of my body until I’m fully bent backward, panting for breath, head resting against the mirror over the sink.
“It feels better when you do it,” I say.
Suddenly he drags his tongue over my clit, hard and slow.
I shout, gasp, arch my back. I pull my hands against his and this time he lets me go, flicks my clit one more time, and plants my foot on his shoulder, hand gripping my ankle. I use him as leverage and push up until I’m sitting on the counter and he drags me forward, thighs spread.
Then he grabs my hands, puts them back where they were. Holds them with his own and teases me again: flick, flick, flick, drag.
“So much better,” I gasp out. He rewards me with another hard, slow drag of his tongue, and I roll my hips forward, seeking more, but he doesn’t give it.
Seth teases me with quick, deliberate flicks, swirls. Twice I’m on the brink, and twice he leaves my clit and slides his tongue between my lips, teasing at my entrance until my breathing evens back out.
The third time I nearly come, he pulls away entirely, his lips finding my inner thigh. My eyes fly open.
“Wait, no,” I say, voice ragged. “Go back.”
He doesn’t. Instead he lets my hands go and stands, leans over me, swipes one thumb along my wet slit as he does. I groan, quietly, and then his mouth is on mine and I lick my juices from his lips.
“I missed that,” he says, curling his hands over my body again: belly, hips, breasts. “Who knew heaven was listening to you moan with my tongue on your clit?”
I’m surprised to discover that I’ve got one foot in the sink, the other on a towel rack, and I move them both, sit forward. Pull him toward me, my legs on either side of his torso, looking straight into his eyes for once.
The shower’s still going, the bathroom so filled with steam that I can barely see the opposite wall. We’re both slick with it, tiny droplets gathering and merging on skin, and I mean to answer but instead I kiss him again and slide my hands over the muscles in his shoulders, his arms, his chest. I bend my head and lick droplets from his neck, the hollow of his throat as his hands skim down my back.
Seth pulls me off the counter so I’m standing in front of him and he’s towering over me again. My hand goes to his cock, circles it. Squeezes, and he groans. Grabs my ass, holds me against him. Ravishes my mouth with his.
I wriggle, stroke his cock again. He doesn’t relent, still backing me against the counter.
“Move back,” I murmur.
“Why?”
“I can’t get on my knees if I can’t move,” I tell him.
“I don’t want you on your knees,” he says.
The deepest kiss, my thumb stroking over the thick head of his cock. A growl erupting from his chest as I rub the slick drops into delicate skin. Bodies pressed together so tightly it’s hard to tell where he ends and I begin, skin slick, steam swirling with every movement.
“I want you standing,” he says. Pulls back, takes my hips to spin me but I understand exactly what he wants and I’m already turning, my palms flat on the counter in front of me.
Seth fits himself to my back, wraps an arm over my torso from waist to shoulder, and I kiss his hand. He lifts a finger and I lick it, suck it into my mouth, drag my tongue over his fingerprint.