And then he stops.
It takes me a few seconds to realize that he’s not going to continue. And when I do, I’m both confused and frustrated. I feel as though I was on the verge. But now I’ll never know.
When Alec comes to his feet at the end of the chaise, he doesn’t say anything at first. We simply watch each other. On the inside, I’m throwing a childish tantrum, stomping my foot in peevishness. But on the outside, I’m as calm as still waters.
Finally, Alec comes around to the side of my chair and reaches for my hand. “Come on. Let’s get you showered.”
He hauls me to my feet. And I let him. My limbs feel heavy and…dissatisfied, as if my every muscle is weighted down.
I let Alec lead me inside, through the bedroom and into the bathroom. I watch as he turns on both shower heads and tests the temperature a couple of times before he walks back to me.
“Let’s get your mind on something else. Like me,” he says, the corners of his mouth twitching as though he’s on the verge of a smile. But it never materializes. His expression stays just as intense, even when he reaches down and loosens the towel at his hips and lets it fall to the floor.
I want to look down so badly. But I don’t. I keep my gaze trained on his as he backs toward the shower, leading me along.
When he turns to step inside, I allow my eyes one short flicker down to his perfect butt, but then I bring them quickly back to his wide shoulders. He moves in front of the spray then turns around and pulls me toward him. He does it so quickly, I can’t see anything. But when he snugs me up against him, I can certainly feel what I didn’t see.
His rigid length presses into the softness of my belly, making me tingle from the waist down. His hard chest rubs against my sensitive ni**les, making them ache for his attention. And his eyes burn down into mine, full of challenge and determination and a passion I’ve never before encountered.
“I want to watch you bathe,” he says softly. “And I want you to watch me.”
With that, Alec reaches for two bars of soap, handing one to me. I take it and he backs up a couple of steps, creating enough space between us that we can move freely.
His eyes roam over me from head to toe as he rolls the bar of soap in his hands. I mimic his actions, finally feeling free to look him over.
And he’s just as flawless as I expected him to be. His broad shoulders taper to a trim waist and a thin trail of hair that leads downward. His hips are narrow and, between them, a long, thick shaft of masculine perfection.
I see one of Alec’s soapy hands slip into my view. It glides down the inside of his hip and moves in to what I’m focused on. I can’t look away as I watch his fingers wrap around the base of it and stroke slowly toward the tip.
“You did this,” he whispers. “This is all for you.”
My heart skips in my chest as I watch his thumb circle the engorged head before he tightens his grip and makes his way down to the base again. Up and down, I watch him travel the length several times before I realize that I’m warm and achy and out of breath.
I jump when Alec takes my right hand and guides it toward him. Eagerly, I wrap my fingers around him, reveling in the hot steely feel. He moves his hand over mine and, together, we explore his body. He plays my fingertips over the bulging vein on the back side, and he plays them around the satiny tip.
I hear his breath coming faster and I look up into his smoky green eyes. They’re ravenous. Every bit as ravenous as I feel.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask, not knowing how much of this is part of his plan to fix me.
“What do I want you to do?” he repeats, his jaw flexed and his teeth gritted. It’s obvious he’s struggling to keep a hold on himself. It’s also obvious he’s determined to do it. “What I want for you to do is let me tie your hands behind your back,” he says, reaching forward to twist his fingers into my hair and pull my face toward his. “What I want for you to do is let me force you to your knees. What I want for you to do is let me jam my c**k down your throat until I fill your mouth with come.” His breath is hot on my face, hotter than the steam from the shower. His eyes are hard, his words brutally honest. “But what I’ll settle for,” he grinds, pivoting until my back is pressed to the cool shower wall. I feel a tiny thread of fear shiver through me and then it’s gone. “Is for you to let me watch you wash every crevice of your body. And try not to imagine that your fingers are mine.”
His eyes bore hot holes into mine for a few tense seconds before he bends his head and takes my lower lip between his teeth. He nips it, hard enough to get my attention, but not hard enough to hurt. The sensation lands in my belly like a bolt of lightning.
With a growl, he pushes himself away from the wall and turns to put his face into the stream of water from the shower head. After a few seconds, he turns back to me, to where I’m still standing helplessly against the wall, and starts to lather his chest.
“I suggest you get started,” he says blandly, one brow rising in that way that I love.
So I do.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - Alec
Penance. That’s what this is. I’m punishing myself for the things I’ve done and Samantha is the community-service I feel compelled to perform.
At least that’s what part of me feels like. The part that would rather be working day and night to coerce her into leaving her fear behind and embracing my world.
But it’s not my world anymore. It can’t be. I haven’t let it be for a long time.
Until Samantha.
She was too much to resist. I let myself down and I scared the shit out of her in the process. So I’m making amends. As a doctor, as a man and as a decent human being, I’m keeping the chains on the darker side of myself and I’m doing what I need to do to help her, to give her a shot at what she calls a normal life.
I’ve brought her to the edge of orgasm at least two dozen times in the last two weeks. Anywhere and everywhere. At her house and mine, in the car, on the sand, and everywhere in between. I won’t let her climax because I want to make sure she’s ready, that she’ll actually do it and not feel like a failure to me and to herself. I think I could’ve made her come that day on the balcony, but I didn’t want to push her too far too fast. And I suppose there was the small chance that I might’ve been too arrogant, that she might not have. And that would’ve been a disaster. So here we are, two weeks later, and I’ve got the worst blue balls known to man.