He stops immediately, holding me tight and kissing my temple. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t try to touch me again.
I go to sleep wishing I’d let him.
I wonder what could have happened as I let my fingers trace over my collarbone and along the tops of my breasts. I squeeze my thighs together to ease the building ache.
What would it be like to be with him? To let him touch me everywhere, with nothing between us? Would he be rough? Gentle? Would he be afraid of hurting me or too aroused to be careful?
I want to be brave enough to have all of it. I want things I can’t clearly define because I’ve never experienced them before. The weight of him on top of me. His hands on me. His mouth…
I gasp as my fingers brush over my sex. My clit is sensitive because of him. I need him to rub it for me. I wonder if he’d let me show him how I like to be touched.
I squeeze my breast and pinch my pointed nipple as I press down with the heel of my other hand and rub harder. I can almost feel his eyes on me.
Not almost.
I know before my lashes lift that he’ll be there, but it’s still startling to see him standing in the doorway. His nostrils flare and his lips part as he watches me, and I freeze for an instant before instinctively covering myself with my hands.
His mouth forms the silent denial, and then he closes his eyes and swallows visibly before turning to leave.
I’m the one calling him back. “Don’t go. I… I want you to see me.”
Before I can take it back, he’s kneeling by the tub. “I’m here, baby. I won’t touch you, I promise, but I want to see you, too. I need to see you.”
I move my hands out of the way, and suddenly there he is. The volcano. His eyes are dark as midnight as he looks down at my body, bared to him for the first time with only the water to conceal me.
“Beautiful,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful, Tanisha. Please. Don’t stop what you were doing.”
“Wh-what?”
“Touch yourself while I watch. Let me see you come.”
It has to be real. None of my previous fantasies have been this vivid. This brazen. And for him, I want to try.
His teeth bite down on his lower lip when I start to rub myself again. His gaze skims my body over and over but he keeps coming back to my core. To the tight circles I’m making over my swollen clit.
“Does that feel good, baby?”
The rough quality of his voice feels like a physical caress, making me shiver. I nod.
“Don’t be shy with me, wife. Not now that you’ve brought me here. I need to hear you say it.”
Wife.
“Yes,” I say in a breathless voice I barely recognize. “It feels good, but I need more.”
“Oh God, I know, baby.” He’s leaning heavily against the tub now, as if he’s being held back from me by invisible restraints. “I know you do, and I’ve been dying to give it to you. Part your thighs for me.”
I let my legs drift apart, revealing more to his gaze.
“Oh, that’s good.” he moans softly. “My woman has a perfect pussy, doesn’t she? But it’s shy and it needs extra attention.”
The graphic words make my sex clench, heightening my arousal with every breath he takes. “What kind of attention?”
“I won’t. I swear I won’t,” he mutters before I hear the sound of a zipper lowering on the other side of the tub. “I need to be with you. Only like this, for now, but I can’t wait until I’m alone in the shower, trying to recreate what I’m seeing right now.”
Is he touching himself, watching me and— “Emerson, what do I do?”
“Give me a minute, baby.” I can see his muscles flex as his arm works beneath my eye level. “Dip a finger inside for me. I know you’re wet. But I want you to tell me how tight you are. Torture me with that honesty you’re such a fan of.”