Tempt Me, Taste Me, Touch Me

She pushed off the wall and spun around to face him. "What are you going to do to me?" she asked, her voice so soft he almost couldn't make out her words above the spray of the water.

He knew she was waiting for an answer, but he couldn't speak.

She was all wet now as the shower-head soaked them both, and her hair was slick against her head, a darker color now than the gold it had been dry. Her eyes, her high cheekbones, the red flush across her lips stood out in sharp, stunning relief. Drops of water ran into the curve of her neck and down over her shoulders. Her br**sts were high and proud, and he envied the water as it poured over her ni**les. Already, the sight of her naked in the shower rivaled any naked-in-the-water pictures Playboy had ever published. Every memory he had of other women naked-in the shower, in his bed, in the back of a car-was erased as his eyes followed the streams of water down past her rib cage to her waist. Heading straight toward her pu**y.

He got lost there, staring at her sweet mound, and his c**k grew big. Bigger than it had been out on his porch twenty minutes ago, even.

He felt her fingers under his chin and he looked up at her eyes, finally realizing that somewhere along the way he must have dropped the thread of the conversation. Fortunately, the look in her eyes told him that was just fine.

''I'm not scared anymore, Tyson;' she said, then slowly turned to face the tiles. She placed her hands up high on the granite, one at a time, and her fingers were elegant as they splayed out to support the weight of her upper body. She shifted her legs until they were spread apart for him, and she looked back over her shoulder.

"I'm ready now. For you to do whatever you want. Anything you want:'

The images that hurled through his brain, one after the other, nearly knocked his feet out from under him. She didn't know what she was saying, did she? Anything? Jesus. He needed to get a grip or he was going to shoot his load before he so much as laid a finger on her.

Blocking the spray with his back, he moved in behind her, pressing the head of his penis into the small of her back. Any closer and he wasn't going to be able to keep from plunging into her wetness. She sucked in a breath as the front of his thighs met the soft skin of her ass. They were good, so damn good together. He'd never had this kind of immediate satisfaction with a woman before. As if they'd been designed specifically for each other.

"You must have been hot out there, walking as far as you did;' he murmured behind her ear. His hand, and the soap, found her shoulders. Lightly he massaged her skin with the bar. "Dusty too."

"Mmm;' she said again as she shifted her hips back into him.

"Get me clean, Tyson."

He put the soap down and let his hands rub bubbles into the base of her shoulder blades until the tight muscles loosened, then down her spine to the flare of her ass. He moved his hands around to her belly, and although her muscles were tight beneath his fingers, her skin was soft. So soft. He massaged the foam into her flesh, increasing the pressure of his palms. Up or down, that was the question. But he already knew that if he let himself touch her between her legs, he'd never resurface. And that wouldn't be fair to either of them. Holding his breath in anticipation, he ran his fingers up her rib cage until he felt the bottom swell of her br**sts against his knuckles.

"You're so soft;' he said as he covered her br**sts with his large hands. "I know my hands are rough;' he said by way of an apology for the calluses that were a part of his livelihood.

"They're perfect;' she said, her words a moan of pleasure.

"You're so gentle:'

She turned her head and he captured her mouth in a deep, hot kiss. His thumb and forefinger found her ni**les, and she gasped into his mouth. His tongue slid between her teeth so that he could taste her more fully, and he finally let himself slide his hard, thick shaft against the silky skin at the small of her back. She rubbed her tight, round ass into his thighs and it took everything he had not to explode right then, there, rubbing against her soft skin.

But he wasn't ready to lose it yet. He had the rest of her body to explore first. Forcing himself to pull away from her sweet mouth, her perfect ass, he let the water course down her back, watched it wash the bubbles away.

He picked up the bar of soap again and bent down to run it up the alluring curve of one leg, from her ankle, up and over her strong calf muscle, into the valley behind her knee, and finally, up the back of her thigh, to the luscious curve of her bottom. Carrie's breath was ragged as he laved her other leg with the soap. She opened her legs wider for him, and the temptation was more than he could take. He dropped the bar of soap to the floor and sat down on the granite tiles, sliding between her open thighs, his back against the same wall that her hands were on.

He looked up and knew, with absolute certainty, that they'd been made for each other. Because her clitoris, her wet, plump lips, were right there for him to take into his mouth.

So he did.

Her hands found him, curving around his skull as he ran his tongue in long strokes up the . length of her labia. Fluid escaped from the head of his penis, but he was too focused on Carrie's sweet pu**y to notice, to care anymore if he shot into air. He sucked her clit in between his lips, pushing one finger, then two into her tight canal, feeling her squeeze him tight.

Her inner muscles clenched and pulled at his fingers, and she was panting now. She was so close to coming, so close to breaking apart with his mouth on her clit. Her legs were shaking, and he used his free hand to hold her up. And then a soft scream echoed off the granite walls and all of her muscles went loose as she found her pleasure in his mouth, with his hands on her, in her.

He licked and sucked and stroked and loved every moment of her orgasm. Before. During. Even after. And the way she looked as she fell onto his lap was nearly the best part of all. Flushed and sated and perfect.

FIVE

CARRIE WAS STUNNED by the force of her orgasm. A part of her wanted to weep. Another part, a bigger part, wanted to shower Tyson with thank-yous for showing her a wild streak she hadn't known she possessed.

Even so, even after the best climax of her life, she knew that what Tyson had done to her in the shower had been more than just a fantastic sexual experience.

It had been emotional too.

He had been surprisingly tender, paying attention to her desires, to every part of her. He'd taken the time to figure out what she liked. What she craved. How she wanted to be touched.

And now, he was still hard, still waiting for his turn, but not in a rush to get inside her. He wasn't trying to figure out how long it was going to be until he got to come.

She'd never been with anyone like Tyson. In less than an hour, he had already paid more attention to her sexually than James .i',had in two years. And she'd never known, not until tonight, that she'd needed, desperately needed, to be made love to like this.