Mature Content Warning: This section contains a scene of explicit sexual activity. Reader discretion is advised.
Heather opened her eyes, the steamy air of the shower swirling around them. They were still locked in a close embrace, the warmth of their bodies mingling with the hot water.
She gently patted Rhys's chest, her fingers tracing the contours of his damp skin.
"Let me finish washing up," she murmured, her voice slightly breathless. "I only just shampooed."
Rhys tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering on her cheek. "Sure," he whispered, his voice husky. "Let me wash you."
He reached for the bar of soap, turning the shower knob slightly to dampen the soap with a fresh flow of warm water.
Heather eyed him with a playful suspicion, a flicker of curiosity in her gaze. She wondered what he was planning, but she decided to indulge him, a silent invitation in her eyes.
Rhys, standing behind her, began attending to her body. He started with her back, his hands gliding smoothly over her skin, lathering her with the fragrant soap. He then moved to her arms, his touch gentle yet firm, before squatting to wash her legs, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her calves.
He then rose, his movements deliberate and slow, and began to lather her stomach, his hands moving upward in a languid caress. The wet soap slid across her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
Heather's breath hitched as she felt his hands slowly ascend, inching closer to her breasts. The anticipation sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of excitement and nervous energy.
Rhys's touch grew bolder, his hands cupping her breasts, kneading and massaging them with a slow, sensual rhythm. He started with one hand, then both, his fingers tracing the delicate peaks, teasing and tantalizing.
"Rhys…" Heather breathed, her voice low and shaky, her words trailing off into a soft moan. "What are you…?"
"Hmm?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her ear. "Just making sure you're thoroughly clean." He nipped at her earlobe, his teeth grazing her skin, sending a wave of heat through her body.
With his left hand still caressing her left breast, his right hand slid down her stomach, tracing a path to the sensitive juncture between her legs. His fingers found her clit, and he began to massage it with a slow, circular motion, his touch sending waves of pleasure through her.
Heather's knees weakened, her body leaning back against Rhys for support. She gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging into his damp skin, her head falling back as she moaned softly. The combined sensations of his touch and the warm water sent her spiraling towards the edge.
"Rhys… I'm close…" she panted, her voice thick with desire.
Rhys tightened his grip on her breast, his fingers now a frantic dance against her bud, his movements a desperate plea. "Come for me, baby," he growled against her ear, pushing her over the edge.
"Ahhh!!" Heather's body trembled, waves of pleasure washing over her as she reached her peak. Her moans filled the steamy bathroom, a symphony of raw desire. Rhys held her close, his body pressed against hers, grounding her as she rode the waves of her orgasm.
When the tremors subsided, Heather stayed leaning her back against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The lingering warmth of their shared intimacy filled the air, a silent testament to their connection.
Rhys kissed the nape of her neck, his lips lingering on her damp skin. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky.
A lingering tension hung in the steamy air as Heather felt Rhys's hardened length pressing against her back. She knew he was as aroused as she was, his desire a palpable presence behind her.
A playful glint sparked in her eyes. She wasn't ready for full intercourse, but she could offer him a different kind of release, a way to return the favor, and tease him a little.
She turned on the shower, the warm water cascading over her body, rinsing away the remaining soap suds. Then, with a playful tug, she pulled Rhys closer, guiding him under the showerhead.
Reaching for the soap, she began to lather his body, her touch mimicking his earlier actions. She started with his chest and his broad back, her hands gliding over his muscles, then moved to his arms and legs, her fingers tracing the contours of his body with a deliberate slowness. Finally, she turned off the shower, the sudden silence amplifying the intimacy of the moment.
With a mischievous smile, she turned him around, her eyes locking with his. Rhys's gaze blazed with undisguised lust, his breath catching in his throat as he saw her kneeling before him.
"What are you doing, Heather?" he asked, his voice a low growl.
"Just making sure you're thoroughly clean," she replied, her voice a playful echo of his earlier words.
Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the full length of his erection. It was undeniably large, thick and long, pulsing with heat. The sight of it, so raw and powerful, sent a shiver down her spine.
A flicker of apprehension mixed with curiosity crossed her mind. Would that really fit inside me? she wondered, her thoughts momentarily straying to their future intimacy.
She reached out, her fingers wrapping around the base of his length, the raw heat of his skin a shocking sensation. Her eyes widened slightly; his size was far more substantial than she'd imagined, her fingers falling short of completing the circle. She began to move her hand, a slow, almost reverent stroke.
"Ugh…" Rhys groaned, his head falling back against the tiled wall. "You don't have to do this, Heather." He reached out, his fingers brushing against her hair. "I didn't do what I did earlier expecting you to return the favor."
"I know," she replied, her voice soft but firm. "But I want to."
Her hand moved up and down his shaft, her grip tightening as she found her rhythm. Her movements were clumsy at first, a mix of awkwardness and hesitant exploration.
She had never done this before, not even with Chris. Rhys, sensing her inexperience, gently guided her hand, his low groans of pleasure filling the steamy air.
As her confidence grew, her strokes became more fluid and assured. Rhys leaned forward, his arms braced against the wall, his body trembling with suppressed desire.
"Turn on the shower," Heather murmured, her voice husky.
Rhys complied, the warm water cascading over their bodies, washing away the remaining soap suds. As the water streamed down his length, Heather's gaze was drawn to the pulsing vein that ran along its length.
God, it's so big, she thought, a flicker of apprehension mixing with a potent curiosity. Will I be able to take all of him?
She parted her lips, her breath catching in her throat, and slowly, deliberately, she took him into her mouth.
"Fuuuck, Heather," Rhys groaned, his voice a raw, guttural sound. He gripped her head, his hips surging forward as she enveloped him. The sheer size of him filling her mouth.
A primal wave of pleasure surged through him, but the moment Heather's soft gag reached his ears, he pulled back, his voice thick with a guttural apology. "Sorry. Are you okay?"
Heather coughed, her eyes watering slightly. "Yes," she managed, her voice hoarse.
Undeterred, she returned to her task, her movements more confident now. She began by licking the sensitive skin beneath his balls, her tongue tracing the delicate seam.
Then, she slowly worked her way up, her tongue swirling around the tip of his cock, teasing and tantalizing. She took him fully into her mouth, her lips and tongue working in tandem, creating a rhythm that sent shivers of pleasure through Rhys's body.
Rhys's groans filled the steamy bathroom, his body trembling with the intensity of the sensations. He gripped her hair, his fingers tangling in the wet strands, his hips thrusting as she worked her magic.
He was teetering on the edge, the pleasure building with each flick of her tongue, each swallow.
Heather, emboldened by his reactions, increased her pace, her tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, her lips sucking and pulling with a newfound confidence.
She felt the pulse of his arousal, the raw power of his desire, and a sense of heady satisfaction washed over her.
"Heather…" Rhys gasped, his voice a strained whisper. "I'm close…"
She increased the pressure, her strokes becoming more rapid and insistent, pushing him closer to the edge. His body tensed, his muscles coiling with anticipation. He groaned, a low, guttural sound that echoed through the bathroom.
With a shuddering cry, he came undone, his release a hot, thick pulse that filled her mouth. Heather swallowed, her eyes fluttering closed, savoring the taste and texture.
Rhys collapsed against the wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He held her head against his chest, his fingers stroking her hair.
"God, Heather," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You're incredible."
Heather lifted her head, her eyes sparkling with a mix of playful satisfaction and lingering desire. "I try," she whispered, her lips brushing against his still-hard length.
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated against her skin. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, tender kiss.
"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured against her mouth.