“Yes, I love it...” I barely whisper, a faint smile appearing on my face, and I hear him groan in response. It makes me feel good to know that he wants me touching him, that he wants my hands on his body, just as much as I do.

I don’t miss his eyes as they look over my body, at the white shirt now see-through and clinging to my naked breasts. Even though I’m clothed, visually, he can see everything.

I increase my pace and his breath hitches. Without losing my rhythm, I decide to explore him a bit more. I use my other hand and cup his balls, feeling them, large and heavy in my hand. As I move them slowly, I see his torso muscles tense.

“Do you know how perfect you look right now? Holding me in your hands… Fuuucckkk...” He groans, long and deep, and I know he must be close. I shiver at his words. I like him complimenting me, wanting me, needing me.

He lowers one of his hands from the shower frame and brings it to the collar of my shirt, opening the first few buttons, showing him my bare breasts, and his lips part in wonder.

“Keep moving your hands, Bella. I want to come on your chest. I want to mark you as mine.” He’s barely hanging on, and I speed up my pace, wanting to please him, wanting to feel him come undone by my hands, feeling powerful that I can make a man like Dante weak at the knees with my touch.

His hands rest back up on the shower frame as his eyes pin me in place. His hips begin to move a little, pushing his hard cock into my hand, and a slow growl rumbles up his throat as he explodes, his need for me painting my bare chest. My soaked white shirt hangs heavily from my shoulders as he brands me, my skin now warm where he covers me with his orgasm. He looks directly into my eyes, his stare penetrating, his nostrils flaring, and I grip onto him until there is nothing left.

16

Dante