Voyeur (15 page)

this. The last time she'd asked that question had been right before she'd used the vibrator for him. In comparison, this actual y seemed . .. not as

extreme.

She tried to approach it practical y. She lifted one leg up beside her on the bench, knee bent—although as she did it, it was impossible not to be

aware that she was putting her pussy ful y on display. Braden stood at the other end of the shower, water streaming over his back, watching.

Spraying shaving cream into her hand, she smoothed it over the flesh between her thighs. She drew in her breath at the light flutter that wafted

through her, then took up one of the plastic razors and cautiously began to swipe the hair away. The sensation of moving the razor over such a

sensitive area while Braden watched added to her growing arousal. Damn—she'd expected the task to excite
him,
not her—and yet her breath

grew shal ow as she saw the dark hair disappear, leaving soft, smooth skin in its place. Something about revealing this final hidden part of herself

—to him, and also to herself—left her feeling alive, vibrant, brave, and gloriously brazen.

Across the shower, Braden's eyes were glued to her pussy, making it feel so swol en That she couldn't imagine what it looked like in such a state,

now without even pubic hair to conceal it. She worked careful y, steadily, trying to remain calm and ignore her own ragged breathing, until she'd

finished, leaving only a smal tuft of pale curls at the top. "Good?" she asked, lifting her eyes to him.

His dark gaze shone with masculine pleasure as he answered with only a short nod, then bent one finger toward himself, summoning her. He

stepped out of the spray so That she could move under it, and they both watched as the water washed away the remains of shaving cream.

The second it was gone, Braden's hand slipped between her legs. They both moaned at the touch.

"Just like I wanted you," he said. "Soft and slick." Then he pul ed his hand away. "Feel it," he instructed.

Given that she'd touched herself for him before, she didn’t hesitate. Yet she sucked in her breath when she discovered just how incredibly smooth

she'd left herself.

"Beautiful," he whispered over her, leaning in for a lingering kiss.

"I can't real y see it," she admitted.

Reaching behind him for the shaving mirror, hung on a smal hook, he held it in front of her at just the right angle—and she gasped. Men were used

to having their sex organs on display—women, not so much. The vision was at once startling yet. . . lovely. Lovely to see what
he
saw and to know it turned him on. Lovely, too, to see what she real y
was
down there, how she real y
looked.

Then she remembered what had prompted this. He'd told her he wanted to lick her some more. She'd already been very satisfied when he'd

offered, but now she ached for stimulation to the flesh she'd just spent long minutes teasing in so many ways. "Do you want to kiss it now?" she whispered, peering up into those dark eyes, hoping he could see the lust in hers.

An expression of supreme gratification washed over his face—as if maybe he'd just figured out that he'd truly begun to change her, change her into

what he wanted her to be.

He never answered, just pressed his palms to her hips and began walking her slowly backward until she bumped lightly into the bench. He eased

her down onto it and issued a simple command. "Spread for me."

Pulse racing, she parted her thighs, and it felt like she was opening herself to him in a whole new way.

He dropped to his knees, slid his hands up her thighs, and peered intently at her face. "Do you know how beautiful you are, Laura?"

She didn't answer for a long moment, not sure how to. On an average day, she'd probably cal herself a six. She wasn't a stunner—she knew that

and was okay with it. But with him,
she felt
beautiful, more desirable than ever before. "You
make
me beautiful," she final y said.

The words brought a smal smile to his mouth just before he bent to lick her. Same searing pleasure as before, yet even more intimate now,

somehow. Because she'd bared this last private part of herself. She'd had no idea when he'd asked her to do it that it would feel like such a monu-

mental change, yet it did. So much That she parted her legs even farther, as wide as she could, until she was lifting them both onto the bench on

either side of her. She sighed and moaned with each tantalizing lick he swept through her wetness and felt every graze of his fingers where he

stroked her outer flesh, the skin now soft and bare.

Even when she let her eyes fal shut, she knew his gaze shifted from her pink folds to her face and back again. She could feel those dark eyes as

tangible as a touch—it seemed she'd always been able to, even when he'd been al the way in California.

Her breath grew labored with his ministrations, each stroke of his tongue lifting her higher. She moaned, sighed, lightly massaged his scalp.
Yes,
yes, so good, baby.
She kept the words inside now, though, because so much emotion combined with so much sensation was weakening her al

over again.

Suddenly he raised his head and said, "I need to be inside you," so firmly she would have thought his life depended on it. It made her want him there, too.

"God, yes," she agreed.

Grabbing her wrist, he yanked her to her feet, turned her body, and used his hands to plant her palms flat against the shower wal . Mist from the

warm spray floated over them as Braden gripped her hips and plunged inside her.

Oh God—so big, so deep!
Her legs nearly dropped out from under her as she released a hot sob.

"You okay?" His breath came warm on her ear.

"Mmm" was al she could manage. Then, with a Herculean effort, "Big. Good.”

He growled a response. "You're so tight around my cock." She sobbed again, lightly this time, overcome by the whole encounter.

When he first began to thrust, she had to fight to keep her footing, keep her knees steady. He anchored one strong arm around her waist to help her

stand. Every hard stroke pulsated al the way to the tips of her fingers and toes and made her cry out from the intensity.

But before long, she was instinctual y arching her ass toward him, wanting to somehow take him even deeper. His hands snaked around to grasp

her wet breasts, massaging in time with each drive of his stiff shaft, then one dipped down to stroke through her moisture in front. Only then did she realize he was no longer holding her up, That she’d found the strength to take what he had to give.

She felt out of her mind with pleasure, letting it envelop her. She could no longer think or reason, only absorb him—his cock, his hands, the mouth

that occasional y rained kisses across her shoulders, neck. She heard her own voice—she sounded like someone in pain, nearly crying, but they

both knew it was pleasure that consumed her.

His big fingers turned in perfect circles over her clit, and thrusting against his cock in one direction brought a sweeter, hotter pressure in front when she moved back the other way. She'd never had multiple orgasms before—but maybe that was just because her other lovers had quit trying after

one? She'd thought she might climax a few minutes ago, when he'd started licking her again, and now, as he touched her, moved in her so

powerful y, she knew she would come a second time.

It broke over her in waves of light and heat, and like before, she started to go down—too weak to keep standing—but the hand at her breast

dropped to her waist to support her as she screamed out her pleasure. "I've got you, baby, I've got you," he cooed in her ear as the final vibrations echoed through her.

And it struck her That she felt safe with him.

How the hel had
that
happened? She barely knew him, after al — they'd done nothing together besides have sex.

Yet she trusted him. Trusted him to take her to these new, hedonistic places without letting her fal . Figuratively or literal y.

But then there was no more time for thinking or examining, because he was stil pumping into her, hard and fast, and she knew he was getting

close, too. Each stroke stil fil ed her, thril ed her, beyond comprehension. “I’m gonna come soon, honey," he rasped.

“I’m gonna come so hard. I'm gonna come on your ass."

Whoa. That caught her off guard and she looked over her shoulder.

"Let me" was al he said, voice low, sure, persuasive. As if he knew with al certainty That she’d agree, but just wanted to hear her say it.

It wasn't, she thought, as if she had much
choice
anyway, if that's what he wanted to do, but as always with Braden, she wanted to excite him. "Yes,"

she said.

And it was only as he pul ed out of her, growling the word "Now" through clenched teeth, only as she felt the hot liquid evidence of his orgasm arc across her rounded flesh, once, twice, thrice, That she discovered yet another new, searing pleasure. Feeling his semen this way made it more

real, more like a vital part of him That she’d brought forth, that he was giving to her. Instantly wanting to feel it even deeper, she fol owed the urge to reach behind her and begin rubbing it into her skin.

"Oh God, honey," Braden murmured, breathless. "That's so hot, I could almost come again." And then he began to
help
her rub it in, which was so hot she almost thought
she
could come again, too.

They stood that way, silent, hands meshing with the moisture, massaging it into her ass, until she peered once more over her shoulder. "I never

come twice," she said.

His gaze twinkled darkly. "You do now."

When they stepped from the shower and Laura reached for her discarded cami, Braden's voice sounded behind her. "Don’t get dressed."

She looked over her shoulder, surprised—and exhausted. "I thought you were tired from skiing."

He chuckled. "Don’t worry. I am." Then his eyes warmed on her. "But I stil don’t want you to get dressed. I want to be able to see you."

With that, he walked to a closet, slid open the mirrored door, and pul ed from a hanger a black see-through kimono, holding it out to her.

Laura drew in her breath. "How many women have worn this?"

He gave her a soft, playful smile. "None, snowflake—I bought it just for you. Before I came up here."

Suddenly wondering if she could catch a glimpse of other feminine-type things in the closet, she leaned past him, trying to look. "What else did you buy for me?"

"Naughty, naughty," he said, sliding the door closed. "You'l find out when I give them to you, and if I catch you peeking, I'l have to give you a spanking."

She bit her lip and spoke unguardedly. "That makes it even more tempting."

"Why, Laura, I didn't know you liked to play that way." He raised his eyebrows, looking heatedly amused.

She dropped her gaze, feeling only a tad sheepish. "Neither did I."

His dark eyes pinned her in place. "Wel , we'l explore that another time. For now, put this on and we'l go make dinner."

"I'm supposed to make dinner in this?" She let out a short, sarcastic laugh.
"Only
this?"

"I want to be able to see you whenever I glance over. I want to see that pretty, smooth pussy, and I want to be able to touch it if I feel the urge."

Oh. Wel . As a fresh frisson of heat skittered down her spine, she decided to quit arguing. The Laura of old would think this preposterous. But

Braden's Laura couldn't help being aroused and intrigued by the notion.

So she slipped on the barely-there robe as Braden stepped into fresh black boxer briefs that hugged him deliciously. He put on nothing more,

either, so she had a nice view, as wel .

Together, they headed down to the kitchen where Braden found a frozen lasagna and a loaf of garlic bread in the freezer, mentioning they were

from his last visit a couple of months ago. Laura had seen them, too, but had bought her own food for the stay back before her voyeur had arrived.

They worked together in the kitchen, opening another bottle of wine, getting the lasagna in the oven, finding plates and utensils, and Laura offered

up the salad she'd assembled at the local grocery store. At first, she felt weird walking around in the robe, but slowly, she began to feel. . . more

sensual, knowing that even as their dinner preparations weren't about sex, they
were.

She also stayed unerringly aware that they strol ed about in what one could almost think of as a glass house. Floor-to-ceiling windows covered the

entire rear of the dwel ing, which included the kitchen and dining area as wel as the living room and Braden's master bedroom upstairs.

As they sat down at the table with their salads, he on one end and she at the side so that their knees touched underneath, she motioned toward the

nearest panes with her fork. Outside, al was black with night, but inside bright lights shone. "You realize that anyone on any other hil side nearby who happens to have binoculars or a telescope like yours could see us right now." She'd noticed the expensive telescope by the window, near the

computer, upon her arrival.

Braden cast a devilish grin. "But wel never know, so what's the harm?"

She glanced again to the telescope. "Do
you
look at people through
your
telescope?"

He gave his head a matter-of-fact tilt. "No, snowflake. I look at
stars
through my telescope. But it's not a bad idea, now that you mention it." He winked.

"So you haven't always been such a voyeur?"

She watched him consider the question. "I guess I've always had tendencies toward watching, always been turned on by the visual aspect of sex.

But I've never been as into it as I am right now, with you."

Why did that warm her heart? She supposed, even if it was sil y, it made her feel a little bit special to him in some way—different from al the other women he'd surely been with.