Free Just a Number by A. D. Ryan

arms until he works the loofah free from my grasp.
    I hold back a moan when he takes over washing my body, turning me around when he deems my back “clean enough to eat off of.” I’m surprised I didn’t melt into a puddle right then and there, to be quite honest, because I’m suddenly inundated with images of Owen eating off my body like some kind of sexual smorgasbord.
    The loofah moves along the skin of my shoulders and neck before travelling down over my sternum, but the way Owen stares at me tells me he’s not really paying too much attention to detail, and my assumptions are confirmed the minute he drops the loofah from his hands and starts using his hands to “wash” my breasts. His hands glide with ease thanks to the water and body wash covering my body, and I moan when he rolls my nipples between his fingers.
    I’m excited about the idea of shower sex. I’ve always been a fan of it, and it’s been way too fucking long since I’ve had it. One more tweak of his fingers, and I throw myself at him, stepping up onto my toes and wrapping my arms around his neck as I press my lips to his.
    “You win,” I murmur against his ravenous lips, and he chuckles, pulling his hands from my tits and letting them fall to my ass.
    “As long as you recognize that,” he replies playfully before nibbling on my bottom lip.
    I drop my hands to his waist and begin to snake them between us before wrapping one hand around his cock. He groans into my mouth as I stroke him a couple times, and then he pulls away, looking conflicted as he holds me by my biceps, keeping me at arm’s length.
    “We don’t…have a condom…” he pants, staggering his words. “We should wait.”
    The right side of my mouth quirks up, and I shrug. “We don’t need to have sex to satisfy each other, you know. Or, has it been too long since you’ve been creative?” I tease, pumping him to the hilt once more.
    “Jesus, Amelia,” he mutters, his fingernails lightly biting into the skin of my upper arms as I continue to work my hand over his length.
    I alternate the pressure of my hand as I slide it up and down, rotating my wrist upon every pass of his tip. My lips curl up into a satisfied smile as I watch his eyes close and his eyebrows furrow. He’s trying to control the movement of his hips, letting me take the lead, but he fails every so often, thrusting with purpose into my palm. It doesn’t take too long before he comes against my hand and belly with a grunt, and the water falling from the shower head quickly washes all evidence of his release away.
    Quite content to end our shower on this note, I swap places with Owen so I can wash the conditioner out of my hair and the soap residue from my back while he washes his own body. He quickly lathers up his chest, legs and back, and I’ve just finished rinsing the last of the conditioner from my long hair when he steps forward, forcing me behind the spray of water and against the other shower wall. With the water raining down on his back, his lips latch onto my neck while his right hand palms my breast much like I’d instructed him the night before, and his left hand grabs my right leg and lifts it. My foot sits on the edge of the tub, and he coaxes me to spread it wider with the back of his hand before he massages his way up my inner thigh and strokes my pussy with his index and middle fingers.
    “Oh, shit,” I moan, weaving my fingers into his hair and holding his mouth against my neck where he’s busy kissing, licking, and nibbling. Both of my legs begin to quiver as his fingers move with intent and experience, swirling around my clit with just the right pressure before gliding back and circling his destination. At an agonizingly slow pace, he eases them into me.
    “Oh, god, Owen,” I pant toward the ceiling. My toes curl and my arms tingle before going numb as he plunges his long fingers in and out of me.
    Owen raises his face from the crook of my neck and pulls my earlobe into his