Page 145 of Sinclair Duet

It was that look that said he only saw me.

A predatory attraction as if he had me in his snare.

My heart beat faster as he closed the small space between us. Once again, with his hands under my ass, he lifted me. My breasts flattened against his hard pecs, and my core rubbed over his tight abs.

I let out a sigh as he spread my lower lips, and a long finger found its way inside me. I leaned back toward the tile, my eyes on his. Our intense stare-down continued as he added a second digit. I sucked in a breath at the invasion.

“Ride my fingers, beautiful.”

My lips quirked. “I’d rather ride your cock.”

“You have to earn my cock, Ella. Ride my fingers.”

Earn.

It was a challenge I’d willingly take.

Lifting myself higher, I pushed off his shoulders and lowered myself. All the while, we continued our stare-down. Over andover, I lifted and lowered. His fingers stretched and teased. It was as he added his thumb and small circles over my clit that I took a shuddering breath.

“That’s it. I want to watch you come.”

I wanted the same.

Faster and faster.

I was almost there.

The orgasm hit with a warning tremor before my entire body convulsed and my pussy spasmed around his fingers. For longer than I knew, I rode out the intense sensation, my lips open and my nails threatening his skin.

When I lifted my head, meeting his gaze, I grinned. “I don’t want the pill equivalent. You’re irreplaceable.”

“Oh, beautiful. We’re not done. It would take a whole fucking bottle.” His smile grew. “Can you stand?”

“Stand.” I looked around the shower. “I think I can.”

“Good.” He lowered my feet to the shower floor. “Turn around and hold onto the wall.”

There was no trepidation or second thoughts.

Damien was directing my pleasure and washing away the world. I was his puppet to instruct and manipulate. Putty in his hands, his capable hands. I widened my stance and placed each hand against the tile. My splayed fingers were all I saw as Damien’s touch covered me, such as the shower’s spray. Starting at my sides, he moved lower. My torso. My waist. My hips. My thighs. His touch shifted, inside my thighs, down to my ankles. He spread my legs farther apart and back to my ass, he pulled it toward him.

It was all a prelude, the building of the melody. The notes that signaled a verse was about to begin. There weren’t words, only notes. Notes that sang their own introduction. The music slowed, a ritardando. The anticipation built. Allegro.

My back arched as Damien filled me, sliding deep within my wet core and stretching me.

The tempo increased.

Vivace.

Presto.

Thrust after thrust.

Damien set the rhythm of the chorus.

My fingers curled as the tension built.

The accelerando wasn’t in my mind alone. Damien, too, was moving faster. His breaths panted in my ear. His grip of my hips intensified. All the while, the warm water coated us, washing away our sins until the stall echoed with Damien’s roar. His cock pulsated as he filled me. Simultaneously, my core imploded.