“Again in the shower?” he asked quietly, striving for a tone of humor he didn’t feel. “Getting to be habit, lover.”
Krysty didn’t reply in words. Her long-fingered hands ran over his face, touching the cicatrix scar on the left cheek. They trailed across his chest, one sharp nail tracing the thin line of hair that stretched over his flat belly to thicken darkly below it. Ryan stared into her eyes, reading nothing there but an erotic urgency. He felt his muscles tighten under her touch, and swiftly his penis engorged and thickened, rising and hardening.
Leaning forward, Krysty tongued his chest as her hands went to his erection, petting and stroking it. She slowly lowered herself to her knees, dragging her tongue down his torso, leaving a trail of heat along his skin. Her scarlet tresses wove a soft, curling web around his hard shaft, caressing and tickling.
Ryan gasped at the indescribably pleasurable sensation. He rested his hands atop her head as his hips began an involuntary back-and-forth motion. Her tongue lapped out, a slow, hot swirl over the tip of his organ. Groaning, he thrust himself forward into Krysty’s avid mouth, her fingers maintaining a sliding, circling grip on the base of his cock.
When he felt the slow rise of juices, he drew in a sharp breath and her hand gripped him tightly in a firm, almost painful grasp. Drawing back, she said breathlessly, “Not yet. Not yet.”
Tugging at him, Krysty guided him down until he lay flat on his back on the warm, wet tiles. Holding his erection with one hand, she straddled his thighs, lifting herself up, then slowly sitting, impaled herself. She released him as she worked his rock-hard length into her. Her hips moved back and forth. She bit her lower lip, her face a slit-eyed mask of concentration.
When he was fully embedded within her velvet, liquid heat, she voiced a keening cry and began to ride him roughly. Fingernails digging into his chest, she rocked back and forth, thrust up and down shallowly in a wild, abandoned rhythm. She gasped, whimpered, moaned and cried out.
Ryan was a little disturbed by her uninhibited sounds of passion. Because of the constant proximity of their companions, not to mention danger, neither of them was very vocal during their couplings. But Krysty grunted, yelped and moaned in an almost mindless fixation on her own pleasure.
He covered her bouncing breasts with his hands, pinching her bright pink nipples. Krysty paid no attention to the touch, her eyes wide but unseeing, clouded and glazed, her mouth open and wet.
Feeling the boiling approach of an orgasm, Ryan writhed beneath her, husking out, “Lover—”
Instantly, her wild pelvic motions ceased. With superb control, her internal muscles closed around his hard column, squeezing it like a determined fist, preventing the explosion. She whispered, “Not yet. Not yet. More to see.”
When she was sure Ryan’s climax had been averted, Krysty slowly lifted herself off the rod of flesh jutting up between his thighs. Her breath came in ragged pants, her full breasts rising and falling.
She went to all fours on the floor, back arched, head down and resting on her forearms, rear end curved sharply upward. Ryan rose to his knees behind her, hands grabbing her sleek, flaring hips. The sight of her beautiful buttocks fanned the flames of lust in him until he was completely unaware of anything else. He fingered the gleam of moisture shining between her legs and he leaned into her, placing the head of his member against her opening. She wriggled her backside to facilitate penetration, backing up against his cock. With one forward thrust, he glided full-length into her, the simmering heat of her snug, slippery sheath making him bite back an outcry.
Krysty groaned so loudly and deeply the tiled walls threw back the echoes. He put his hands around her waist. Her flesh felt like a bundle of charged electric cables covered with silk. She looked back over her shoulder at him as he slid a hand over her belly, through the crisp mat of hair and found the tender, responsive bud of swollen flesh nestled there. He rolled it between thumb and forefinger as he began pumping recklessly back and forth within her. Krysty twisted, moving in rhythm to his thrusts, grunting and gasping.