I catch his eyes. The burning desire has warmed into amber pools. I find myself tightening my hold and swaying further into his body.
No one has ever kissed or touched me the way this man does, with so much
demanding passion, tempered with an almost tender gentleness. I feel my resolve begin to crumble as my desire for him grows. I should be disgusted with myself, standing here naked, vulnerable, and half-wanting this man to do whatever he pleases with me—with my body. Instead, all I feel is confusion at my growing attraction to this man who won’t even tell me his name.
I may be a virgin, but I am neither naive nor clueless. I’ve read NC-17 Harry Potter fan-fiction, watched Maple Colors, the Japanese erotic animated series, and have listened to enough of my friends’ sexual exploits to know what I’m getting into by being intimate with this man. So, unless he has two dicks, I doubt
anything about being with him would surprise me.
Releasing his hold on me, the man steps back, and in one fluid movement, reaches behind his shoulders to pull his shirt up and off.
I lean back, taking in his bronzed chest flecked with coarse black hairs. All man. Unlike the boys I’m used to seeing.
Shaking slightly, I find myself reaching out and placing my palms on his hard abs. I feel his intake of breath. It emboldens me to run them up his warm skin until I reach his pecs dusted with wiry, coarse hairs. He holds his breath.
The thought that I have that much power over him sends a thrill of excitement through me.
The idea to thumb and tease his nipples comes naturally.
I give into the impulse.
It feels right.
“I only have so much control, Princess,” he groans, grabbing hold of my wrists and pulling them off his chest.
I bite my lip, attempting to hide my smile.
The man lets go of me and moves toward the large glass shower. Opening the
door, he leans in, and with a long arm turns the knobs until the rain-like showerhead is spraying down from overhead. It is a hell of a lot nicer than the shower they’ve been making me use since I arrived.
My smile slips as my thoughts wander back to my grim reality.
The man turns back around and motions me forward. I move toward him obediently, needing to feel closer to him.
When I’m within touching distance, he snakes his arm around my waist and
pulls me against his solid frame. Sturdy and safe, I can no longer deny that I want to take refuge in this man’s arms.
Cupping my cheek, he tilts my face up so I’m looking into his melted caramel eyes. I let my body fall into his as he touches his lips ever so lightly to my own. I blink up at him, unsure if I’ve imagined the gentleness of his feather-light kiss.
Pressed against him, the hairs on his chest scratch by breasts, sending tingles of pleasure through me. Reaching out, I place my hands on his hips, anchoring
myself as I feel my body responding to his.
“Check the temperature to make sure it’s comfortable,” the man tells me, moving out of the way and reaching down to begin undoing his belt buckle.
The thought of his naked body fills me with nervous excitement, so I quickly
turn and step into the shower.
The steaming spray engulfs me, and my muscles have no choice but to relax
under the constant battering. Standing there, I let myself drown in the deluge.
For a moment I forget everything and enjoy the sensation.
I’m startled back into the present as the man steps into the shower behind me, the glass door rattling and then clicking closed. The thick steam combined with his solid presence in such a small space suddenly becomes oppressive.
“Relax.” He grips my arms and slowly turns me to face him.
Now faced with a very naked wet man I attempt to step back, but his fingers
dig into my arms, holding me in place.
I stare.
I have never been this close to a naked man before; unless there was a computer screen between us. This man is unlike any I have seen. The perfectly waxed, shaved, and bronzed male models; with their clipped pubic hair and perfectly tanned skin are nothing like him.
I continue to stare.
I can’t help but smile at the sight of his tan lines banding around his thighs and waist. The dark hair around his broad half-erect penis stands out even more against the pale skin the sun hasn’t reached. I have this insane desire to reach out and touch him, to feel the smooth hardness in my palm.
“It’s not going to do anything I don’t let it.”
“What?” I look up at him confused.
“My cock. It’s not suddenly going to leap out and attack,” he teases with a
