Suit - Woodruff Jettie - Страница 16

The reflection staring back at me wore a lost expression. Nothing about this had an erotic ambiance about it. It sickened me. Paxton Pierce was a sick man. I could barely stand, and yet he wanted to play, like I was his toy. What the hell was that? I stayed still, the air hitching in my lungs, while Paxton took his time on removing the string from my ass. The heat from his heavy exhaling fanned warm across my skin.

Another gasp wedged in my throat when I had to lift my leg to step out of my skimpy panties. My fingers tapped anxiously on the counter for a few seconds while I waited for the pain to subside.

My body gradually relaxed and my eyes closed when Paxton ran his fingers between my legs. Stupid dopamine instantly exploded in my brain. The pain vanished, replaced by a pulsating between my legs.

Well, great.

My eyes opened to my own reflection when a finger slid deep inside me. Oh, man. This was bad. I wasn’t supposed to react this way. What the hell? My lips parted and a faint pant escaped when his fingers easily glided through my slit.

Paxton hissed while his fingers did magic on my throbbing nub. “That’s my good little slut,” he whispered while kissing my right butt cheek. I watched my shocked expression morph into an erotic glow while my body reacted through the mirror.

“Paxton, I have to sit down,” I said while feigning strong pain. The endorphins shooting through my body kept me from really feeling any excessive pain, but it was all I had, the only excuse that popped into my mind at the time. Not that it mattered. My attempt to control the situation had backfired, and I found myself in an even worse predicament.

Soft kisses were placed up my body, stopping on my shoulder. One finger ran up my spine, starting at the crack of my ass while our eyes locked through the mirror. Once again, my breath caught in my chest. Dark piercing eyes. Eyes that hated me. Why? What the hell did I do to this man? He turned me to face him, gliding his tongue around my lips and into my mouth.

Jesus. What the hell was wrong with me? I kissed him, not the other way around. It was all me. My lips leaned into his and our tongues tangled together. Everything changed around me. The air, the feel of his touch on my back, and his lips. I literally felt the tension escape his body. My fingers lightly touched the hard stomach behind his T-shirt and I moaned in his mouth.

That stopped him cold. Our lips were separated by him and his eyes were wide, startled maybe. “Go to the shower,” he ordered in an unsure tone. That left me a little baffled. Paxton seemed to be taken off guard more by my advance than I was.

He handed me my crutches, and I jumped a little when the cold metal touched my skin. His nod toward the shower was his way of directing me without words. Careful with my unprotected leg, I limped toward the vast shower, my ass bared for his hungry perusal. Once I reached the bench, I hesitated, unsure of what to do.

“You don’t remember this? Surely you remember your shower,” Paxton inquired with a nonchalant tone.  He took my crutches again and set them outside the glass wall. I didn’t answer. I chewed the inside of my gum and waited.

He removed his shirt and tossed it to the floor, now in nothing but basketball shorts. I stared at him as if it were the first time I had ever seen him shirtless. Paxton wasn’t a big guy by any means, but damn. He was tall, fit, and trim. His muscles bulged, but not in an unnatural way. Everything was proportioned to perfection.

Paxton stepped inside, wrapping me in his arms. My breasts were pressed against his and my nipples reacted. His arms pulled me close, forcing my hands to touch his chest and my heart to flutter. My fingers lifted like I’d just been burned, stiffening to keep from touching his pecks.

He tilted his head and pinched my chin. “Smile. You’ll like this punishment.”

I did talk that time. “Punishment?”

“Shhh, don’t talk.”

His hand pressed against my ass and I grimaced when pain shot through my hip and leg. He did ease off as soon as he noticed, but he kept a straight face, covering my lips with his thumb. It was my cue not to speak.

My arms fell to my sides when he abruptly stepped back. The sudden loss of balance caused me to put pressure on my foot, which went right to my knee. He held onto one hand and ordered me to sit with a nod. I gasped when my ass hit the cold marble, the jolt causing excruciating pain. I glanced up and searched his eyes for a clue to his mood. But he wasn’t angry, as I’d expected. Instead, he laid me down on the bench with gentle care, one arm around my back and a palm on my ribs.

It took a moment for me to relax into the cold marble, waiting for my sore muscles and bones to adjust, but I did. It was actually sort of comfortable.

I closed my eyes when he nudged open my legs.

“Keep your eyes open,” he quietly ordered.

I watched him walk away, retrieving the tools needed to remove the hair between my legs.

Again, no words were spoken. I lay perfectly still while Paxton used the humming shaver on me. Besides the embarrassment fact—my punishment—it wasn’t too bad. Not yet anyway. My eyes fluttered shut when his fingers opened me more for better access with the trimmers. Of course he ordered me to open them again. Other than that, we never spoke.

Once he finished with the trimmers, he turned on the water and removed one of the showerheads. Our eyes locked and I swallowed when the water hit my chest. Thank God it was warm. Paxton moved the sprayer down my body and between my legs, rinsing away my covering. Paxton watched my eyes, or maybe my expression. The water rained over me, straight down the center of my body, right between my legs.

My nerves kicked up a bit when he stepped out, returning with the straight edge. Jesus. He was really going to go there. If it was a plot to scare me, it worked. His hand massaged shaving cream around the leftover stubbles, and then he dropped to his knees. I didn’t move, not even to breathe.

Paxton took great care in shaving me clean. Slow, slippery strokes moved in every crevice. The time seemed to drag, and my body started to reject the hard position. I felt like Paxton sensed the discomfort and sped up on behalf of me. Then again, that could have been me looking for something good in him. Once again, he retrieved the handheld showerhead and adjusted the temperature

Warm water rained over my body while shaving cream ran in a swirl down the drain. No words were spoken between us. Not even when he replaced the water with a thin line of purple shower gel down my body, around my nipples and to the openness of my slit. Lavender.

My body relaxed with his touch. Both hands massaged soap into foam with soft strokes, and I forgot about being uncomfortable. Not one inch went untouched. He explored every part of my body. Each finger to the tip, every tickling toe, and every intimate place. I stopped breathing again that time, too.

Paxton’s fingers slid easily over the pucker in my ass and my body tensed. One finger penetrated me, and slid back out. The attention he paid to my throbbing nub insured I moaned, more than once, every time feeling the penetration in my ass and my overzealous nub.

Once again, endorphins canceled all rational thoughts in my mind. My good leg might have even parted a little more. That was when he stopped. Right when I would have let him do anything he wanted. The point of no return. I didn’t have to worry about it. Paxton didn’t let me get there to even worry about a return. He ran his hand down my slippery folds and back to the pucker in my ass with pressure.

Instant pain shot down my hip when I arched my back, but it was easy to ignore. My lips parted and I fought the moan when Paxton opened me with his fingers and slapped my pulsating clit. Maybe I liked to be punished. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all. I fought hard to keep my composure, curling my fingers into tight fists. Paxton stopped as soon as I whimpered, feeling the onset of release. An impending orgasm, I wouldn’t have.