Revue (15 page)

More pre-cum beaded after a few pumps, deliciously coating his hand and shaft as he worked himself. It made my mouth water, my throat thick. I wanted to taste him, to run my tongue along the same path as his hand, kiss his smooth tip, and slide him inside my mouth, as far as he would go.

Good God.

A low grunt sounded and his rippled abdomen tensed. The movement of his hand increased, the slick sound of his fluids against the slapping of his skin just wonderful. I watched in awe as he pumped vigorously, head falling back and neck tensed.
Oh no, you don’t.

“Eyes on me,” I demanded, and was met with a fiery stare.

His eyes flamed and he stepped forward, his cock mere centimetres from my belly. I moved quickly, sitting on my butt, legs on either side of his, ready for him to come on my tits.

“Do it,” I said, pushing them forth.

He jolted.

I waited.

Warmth hit my chest and stomach, his seed spilling all over me as he groaned and clenched his cock. It was beautiful.

Breathing hard, we stared at each other, the horrid post-coital who-says-what or who-does-what first thick in the air. I was nervous as hell, terrified even, that he’d just zip up and fuck off like he normally did.

What a horrible feeling to have: to be so unsure of your man’s mood or thoughts after the act. To be honest, the apprehension of whether you were still wanted or not was outright awful.
I don’t think I can do this every time.

Before I could get up and make a mad dash to the confines of the bathroom, his lips crashed onto mine, his strong, hard body pushing me back onto the bed.

His cum smeared between us as his chest covered mine and his tongue sought a partner to dance ferociously with. I internally sighed and followed his lead, all apprehension I’d just felt dwindling with every stroke of his tongue and caress of his hand.

“Slow ain’t all that bad, sweetheart.”

“No, not bad at all,” I mumbled.

He plied my face with soft kisses, and it was almost surreal, the gentleness and loving side of him somewhat foreign. Not that I was complaining. At all. It was lovely …
he
was lovely. This moment was lovely.

“So, I’m gonna give you two choices. One: we stay here, fall asleep and wake up cum-stuck in the morning. Or two: we hop into the bath, have water sex, and then get back into bed.”

I laughed. “How ’bout we have that bath and go from there, huh?”

“Choice two it is.”

He pulled himself up and off the bed, and made his way over to the mini bar. “Shit!” he grumbled, looking disappointed. “No more Maltesers.”
What is it with these guys and Maltesers?

“Yeah, sorry. Been there, done that,” I said with a too-bad-so-sad look upon my face as I passed him en route to the bathroom.

He swatted my arse, making me yelp. “What would you like to drink? Want me to order some room service?”

“Sure! Go ahead. Surprise me.” I waggled my eyebrows and slid shut the bathroom door, leaning against it as the hour just past hit me like a flogger.
Oh my freakin’ God! I was just eaten out by Josh the slut Adams. I watched him jerk off then let him blow on my tits. Seriously? What the fucking fuck?

Shocked, I brought my hand up to cover my mouth and looked at my reflection in the mirror.
He said he wants to try, said he wants me. That he would go slow … for me!

A ginormous smile spread across my face, weighing down the doubt that kept rearing its ugly head. It was a double-edged sword, doubt, preventing what could harm yet also preventing what brought joy. It assisted indecision and somewhat held you at bay. And if we allowed it the upper hand, we’d miss out on so much of what life had to offer. Of course that’s not to say we should flip caution the bird … throw it to the wind. But allowing it to restrict the taking of chances. That was a grave mistake. A mistake I did not want to make.

Go with the flow, Cori. See where it takes you. You’re stronger than what you think.

Inhaling deeply then letting it all out, I grabbed my hairclip and fastened my hair into a high, messy bun. As I was securing the ensemble to my head, Josh’s cum gleamed on my chest. My cheeks flamed at the memory, and how I was so keen to be his human blow target. It was not something I’d normally do, let alone volunteer so eagerly for. Cum was just … messy! Either way, I liked how his cum looked on me, and was almost sad when I grabbed a tissue and wiped it off.

Almost.

Picking up the teeny bottle of bubble bath and smelling the scent—Coconut Milk and Honey—I smiled and poured the contents into the bath while turning on the water. I loved hotel toiletries and, admittedly, had been collecting them since Albury. Yeah, I had a problem.

Sloshing the water and making as many bubbles as possible, my ears pricked when I heard a knock at the front door. Voices ensued, but they were muffled over the sound of the water pouring from the tap.
Must be room service.

Minutes later, the bath was full and covered like a sky full of bubbly clouds. It made me smile. I was a sucker for a good bubble bath, and could pretty much live in one if it weren’t for wrinkly skin and the absence of food and a toilet.

Bracing myself on the white-tiled bathroom wall, I toed the water to test the temperature.

Glorious.

I moaned with delight and lowered myself in just as Josh opened the door and entered, carrying a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a tray of what looked like mini desserts.

“What are those?” I asked, excitedly eyeing off the assorted tarts, slices and cakes. “Oh my God! Is that a mini crème brûlée?”

“Yup.” Josh was once again wearing his jeans, his chest, cum-free, which was a good thing, if only for the hotel staff member who’d delivered the food—poor buggers didn’t get paid enough to see things like that. Regardless, I was now ready for him to become naked again.

“Hurry up. The water’s perfect,” I said, scooping up a handful of bubbles and blowing them at him. My blowing breath was, surprisingly, quite impressive, and some of the bubbles found their way on to his cheek and nose. My eyes bugged, and I burst out in laughter. “Oops sorry.”

Using his shoulder—because his hands were occupied with the tray—Josh wiped his face, the flaring of his eyes evidence of pending retribution.
Uh-oh.

He placed the tray down on the shelf by the bath, stripped off his pants and climbed into the tub, sitting opposite me and draping his arms over the sides, all calm and casual.

I bit my lip. What was he up to?

“Come here,” he said, his tone one not to be argued with.

I argued, of course.

“Uh-uh.” I shook my head.

“You want this crème brûlée?” he asked, picking it up off the plate and placing it at the tip of his open and ready mouth.

I glared.
He wouldn’t.

Josh took a bite.
He would!

“Okay, okay.” Crawling forward, I straddled his lap and snatched the delightful dessert, popping it into my mouth and savouring the creamy toffee taste. “Best taste ever!”

“You’re wrong.”

“Am not.”

He sat upright and wrapped his arms around me, placing one hand on the back of my head and one between my shoulders. Josh kissed me hard and long while holding me tight before pulling away. He then relaxed against the porcelain of the bath once again. “That’s the best taste ever.”

I rolled my eyes.
Lies
.

“You’re just trying to butter me up for bath sex,” I said, licking my fingers. There was movement down below between my legs, his cock backing up my insinuation with the hardening against my sex. It felt divine. “See? Even he thinks so.”

Josh took my hand and stuck my finger in his mouth, taking over my cat-like self-grooming. “He does. He has a mind of his own. Always has.”

“That could be a problem, you know,” I stated, the truth behind my words all of a sudden serious.

“The only problem it’ll be is in moments like now, when he’s so close he can touch it, smell it, taste it. Right now, he wants nothing more than to enter you, get to know you just that little bit better.”

I bit my lip and uncontrollably ground my pussy on his erection.

“Corinne!” he warned, eyes hooded, hands tensed. “Best you stop doing that if slow is really what you want.”

God, I don’t know. If slow really is what I want then I wouldn’t be in the bath, on top of him, and performing a wet-hump like a bitch on heat.

I searched his lust-filled cocoa eyes. “You hurt me, I’m gone. And not in the way you think.”

I watched him process my words for a split second before he leaned forward and kissed my lips. He never said anything—never promised he wouldn’t hurt me. I guess I could take that two ways. One: he’s not a liar and, therefore, can’t promise it. Or two: his kiss was meant to confirm that he wouldn’t hurt me, to reiterate that my faith in him was truly warranted. Either way, the kiss was fucking sublime, so much so that I slipped my hand between us and guided the tip of his cock to the opening of my pussy.

“You clean?” I asked, pausing.

“I’m in the bath. I’d say so.”

“Josh!”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m as clean as they come.”

My eyebrow placed her hand on her hip.
Yes, they can do this from time to time.

“You on the pill?” he asked, his eyebrow doing the same.

Damn eyebrows.

“Yes.”

“Then we’re good to go.” Josh braced one hand on the edge of the bath and snaked the other underneath my arm where it settled on the back of my neck. Fingers gently bit into my skin when he drove into me, forcing a cry of shocked pleasure to leave my mouth.
Oh sweet God.
He was hard, long and … deep. Oh, so deep—his length almost painful.

Almost.

“You all right?” he asked, his words grated with pleasure.

“Yup.” My voice was strangled and, not wanting him to think his cock was causing me any discomfort, I masked my strain of the adjustment to his
everything
with humour. “Loch Ness called and said they want their fucking monster back, by the way. Jesus, Josh!”

He laughed and caressed my neck. “Slow, remember? You’re in control.”

“Am I?” My question and serious tone hinted at more than the sex we were having.

He nodded. “Yeah, you are.”

Relief washed over me, as everything about him spelled sincere, from the
SIN
on his lips, to the
CERE
in his eyes. And for the first time since dropping my guard with Josh, I felt the decision to do so was the correct one.

“Okay then.” My head fell to rest upon his, and I pressed light kisses to his lips as I slowly eased myself up and down his cock, feeling every tight, wet, and warm slide within.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned, slipping his tongue into my mouth.

They played, our tongues, lapping, stroking and licking. In that moment, they said what words couldn’t. They said ‘this feels perfect’ and ‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else’. They also said that what we were embarking on was exciting and tasted rather good—a bit like crème brûlée.

Sitting straighter, I placed my hands on his shoulders and rode him quicker, water sloshing out of the bath and onto the floor. We didn’t care, though. All we cared about was what our bodies were doing, what they were feeling and how they pushed, pulled, tightened and buzzed. All we cared about was finally giving in to what we both wanted.

“Jesus, Corinne,” Josh gritted out, the building pleasure seeping from his mouth and eyes. He leaned forward and took my nipple between his lips, stretching it greedily.

I moaned. His mouth and what it could do made me delirious—my breasts loved him. “Oh God!”

His thrusting quickened, our objective, the same: pounding, lots of deep, continuous pounding. And an orgasm … a real good one.

“Harder. Yes!” I cried out, his lips muting my vocal climax.

He too, cried out, his warm cum spilling into me as hands gripped—frenzied and undecided—holding and clawing wherever we could grab. His body. My body. The water, warmth and desperation for air, it was all too much.

“Holy shit!” I gasped, panting profusely.

Josh mumbled against my mouth, his hot, heavy breaths delightful. “Sweetheart, you want control all the time? You can have it!”

I laughed and pulled away, my eyes playfully narrowing. “Why don’t I believe you?”

He shrugged unapologetically, so I gave him an impish glare, before my sight caught the dessert plate just off to our side, a mini cheesecake calling my name. I reached out and picked it up, but as I did, Josh darted forward and ate the whole thing from my hand.

“Hey! I was looking forward to that.”

He winked. “Thanks.”

Grouching, I chose a fruit tart instead and took a bite. “Well, at least your parents taught you manners,” I mumbled, as I assessed what I’d just bitten into.

Josh scoffed. “My parents taught me fuck all. Actually no, they did teach me one thing.”

My eyes darted to his. I was shocked at the disdain he showed toward his Mum and Dad. “What did they teach you?” I asked, my tone soft and curious. I didn’t want to come across as nosey.

“That love is bullshit. They’re fucking proof of that.” His hurt-filled words stung like a bee.

I placed the other half of my fruit tart in his mouth, letting him also taste my finger. “So you don’t get along?”

“No,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart.” Josh reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Not even mine.”

His gesture was romantic and caring, and I couldn’t help but catch his hand before he withdrew it, bringing it to my lips and placing a sweet kiss on it. “When did you speak to them last?”

“The day I told them what I did for a living.”

Josh avoided my gaze, his voice devoid of all emotion. Or at least that’s what I think he was aiming for. The fact he couldn’t look me in the eye, together with his slumped shoulders, suggested he was trying to mask his true feelings of hurt, abandonment and betrayal. My heart broke for him.

“I don’t really care. They can both get fucked.”

“Josh—”

“Don’t, Corinne,” he said, his tone firm, eyes firmer.

I nodded, and dropped my gaze to my belly, watching how the bubbles on the surface of the water magnetised to my skin when I exhaled my surrender.

“Look,” he said, tilting my chin back up. “It’s done. They’re dead to me as I am to them. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want any pity, so lose that Bambi’s-mum-just-got-shot look.” He pinched my nipple—an unsportsmanlike distraction.

“Ow!”

I pinched his—an eye for an eye.

He chuckled and kissed me. “It’s all good, sweetheart. Honest.”

Honest, my arse.

“Do you have siblings?” I asked, not wanting the Josh Discovery Channel to end. Hearing him so candid made me feel … special, special that he would share this personal side of himself.

“Nope. Only child, thank fuck.”

Again, his faux bravado saddened me. The rift with his parents had obviously cut him deep. It was rejection in its purest form.
Rejection … shit!
No wonder he was the way he was, why he didn’t do commitment or relationships—he was afraid of being rejected.
Wow!
His parents must’ve really done a number on him.
Fuckwits.
I hated people like that: self-absorbed, intolerant, narrow-minded arse-wipes. They were the reason the world harboured so much hate and indifference. Dissimilarity is precious. It should be nurtured, respected and embraced, not shamed upon and denoted.
How dare they?

It angered me that his parents felt otherwise, that their perception of what he should and shouldn’t be outweighed their bond and love for him. Take away Josh’s sordid reputation and womanising ways—both things I now understood yet certainly didn’t excuse—and he was a wonderful person. A giving, strong, funny guy whom, underneath his conceited exterior, was kind-hearted and vulnerable. Josh Adams had a heart, one he was protecting just as much as the rest of us.

My parents and brother meant the world to me, and I couldn’t fathom a life without them, let alone imagine any of the three being anything but accepting and supportive. It pained me that Josh didn’t have the same love and support when clearly it was something he wanted. Yes, my heart now officially bled for him, and when my heart bled, my determination increased.

“Stop!” he said, shifting underneath me. He clasped both of my legs, which were resting on either side of his hips, and raised them directly in the air in between us.

I was all of a sudden a fucking gymnast. “What … what are you doing … Josh?” I squealed.

He spun me around with ease so that I was facing away from him and nestled in between his legs. “I can’t stand you looking at me with sad pathetic eyes. Nobody looks at me like that.”

I turned my head to explain that I didn’t pity
him
, that I pitied his parents for what they gave up, but he caught my head and turned it to face forward again.

“Josh! Let me—”

“No. Pass me the body wash.”

Huffing my annoyance, I scooted forward, collected the little bottle and gently tossed it over my shoulder at him. Hopefully he had reflexes like a cat.

He did.

“Is that any way to treat a man who just gave you not one, but four orgasms?”

“I counted two,” I retorted.

He pulled me back so that I was lying on his chest. Then, nibbling my ear lobe and dropping his hand in between my legs, his thumb rubbing small circles on my clit, he asked, “You sure ’bout that?”

“Fine. It was four,” I grouched, sitting upright again and deliberately pulling his hand away. Four was enough … for now. “My back needs cleaning.” The cheeky smile on my face was hidden from his view. Good thing, that was, as I needed to remain strong around him. He was far too good looking—with an incredible smile and cock—to be allowed the upper hand.

Waiting for him to do as I requested, I smiled when I heard the pop of the bottle’s lid. The next thing I knew, his soapy hands were on my back and shoulders, rubbing, kneading, and causing all kinds of wonderful feels.

“I don’t mind cleaning you after I’ve made you filthy dirty, sweetheart.”

I bit my lip and shrugged, still playing my game. “I wasn’t
that
dirty.”

His hands slid from my shoulders to my breasts, and I could practically feel the impressed grin he wore, as his
thorough
cleaning continued—massaging the soapy lather over every centimetre of my skin. The slide of his hand over my hardened mounds and the silky feel of his skating fingertips were pure bliss.

My head fell back.

Josh then dropped his hands farther, gliding over my belly under the water’s surface. I knew where they were headed; the man was just insatiable.
Could I go for orgasm number five?

Yes, more than likely, yes.

Relaxing my legs, I let them fall apart but nearly sat bolt upright when his finger dipped past my pussy and lightly pressed on the opening of my arse. “I can make you a whole lot dirtier if you like?”

I tensed.

Holy crap! He says all the things, makes me feel all the things. He IS all the things.

Son-of-a-bitch!

I wasn’t opposed to a bit of arse-play, because Steve had been a big fan—maybe too much. It was just that any part of Josh being inserted into
that
spot was definitely past the act of going slow. I’d breached my own set of boundaries already, but this one was staying put.

Placing my hand on his, I lifted it and settled it on my tummy. “I do like, but not now. I’m in control, remember?”

He chuckled, tightened his arms around me in a bear hug, and kissed my neck. “I like you.”

I smiled, tension easing. “I like you too.”

***

After the bath, we’d lain in bed and watched
Zoolander,
laughing our arses off until we both fell asleep. Strangely enough, the awkwardness that usually accompanied the first time of ‘sleeping’ together just wasn’t there. We’d cuddled naturally then parted mutually when sleep was about to take hold. I could honestly say I’d never felt more comfortable … until morning, when I woke, feeling as if I were inside an incinerator. At some point in the night or morning, Josh had morphed into a human hot-water bottle and had quite happily taken up residency on top of me.
What the fuck?

I was lying there like a deer in headlights, except I was sprawled out like a starfish, and I swear my body was about to self-combust. “Josh,” I whispered, whispering because his dead weight was restricting my vocal abilities.