Watching a man strip naked had never fascinated me to this extent. Because first, I had seen very few men strip naked, and second, not every man was Ian Nathaniel Cole.

I watched from behind the transparent shower wall as his sweats and then boxers met my clothes piled on floor, and a delicious shiver ran through me when I saw his excitement, standing hard and erect before my eyes.

Damn, Cole.

Ian walked toward the shower, holding my gaze through the glass, then stepped inside. The warm shower was running, steaming up the whole bathroom, when his presence filled the remaining space. I felt him behind me. Not touching, perhaps just watching. I wanted to turn around and measure the hunger in his eyes which were on me all the while I was undressing, but my hands were braced against the glass wall, trying to not melt with the heat pooling in my center.

“Turn around,”

I followed his command. Because when it came to Ian, I would always submit. My back pressed against the cold glass, and palms flattened at my sides. He was indeed watching me. Like a predator, consuming me with his eyes, panting like preparing for a pounce. Wetness pooled between my legs when my eyes switched down to his cock; veiny and bricked, standing fully erect between us.

This was Ian, all bare and hard. For me. I wanted to feel it. Against my hand, inside my mouth, inside me...

Ian groaned, making me look back up at him as he moved three steps forward and caged me against his body and the shower wall, his cock digging into my stomach.

I involuntarily moaned.

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m fucking you right here, against the shower wall.” He grunted, voice laced with an open warning that ran through me like a hurricane, dislocating my senses and pushing incoherent words out of my mouth.

“Why don’t you?”

Ian watched me closely, pupils dilating so wide, it almost consumed the blues in his eyes. His hand moved from beside my head, to somewhere down. The warm droplets of the shower sprinkled over us, as Ian grabbed my hips, turned me around, pulling me under the water with him. My back met his chest with a wet slap.

In the first few seconds as the water dribbled down my body, I felt the ache between my legs fading. But then Ian’s hands move around me to grope my breasts, pinching my nipples between his fingers. And the ache revived. Twisting and spreading thoroughly throughout my sex.

“Does this feel good?” He asked, kneading and spreading my breasts, then pushing them back together. I arched into his hands in response, my head tipping back onto his shoulders as pleasure rippled through me in tiny bits. A groan rumbled from him and his hand left my breast to move down and cup me between my legs, fingers hotter than the streaming water above us. I gasped when he squeezed me, eyes falling shut, mouth gaping into a silent moan. “Tell me. Do you like this? Did you miss being groped like this? Did you fantasize of getting fucked in the shower, hm?”

Something hotter than Ian himself, was his dirty talking. His words could alone make me come, and I would gladly, if he would let me.

He squeezed me again, harder this time, and I couldn't help my cry that tore through the steamy air around us. “Ian…”

“Did you yearn to feel a cock in the past years? Did you want someone to satisfy this needy pussy?” His voice turned bitter, and I could only assume in my fogged-up brain that he was imagining me with Michael. So I hit the nerve, just because I was evil.

“I did. I had a gorgeous husband and I very much wanted his cock.”

Ian bit my earlobe, making me wince, then rasped against my ear. “And you still want it?”

“No.” The answer came without a pause or a second thought. As naturally as true.

I felt his smirk before he sucked onto my neck, grazing his teeth and flattening his tongue across my skin, his actions turning rougher with every passing second. “Good girl. Whose cock do you want now?”

A finger slipped inside me, and I gripped his hand wandering between my thighs, nails digging into his skin. “Yours.” I ground my hips against that one finger, feeling it hit all the right spots with just a little curl. “Only yours.”

“And what do you have to do for it?” He flattened his palm against my stomach and dug his other hand into my pussy, thrusting that one finger inside me with deep, slow strokes. I dipped into the still functionable part of my brain for the answer to his question, and came up with one thing.

“Beg for it.” I heard myself as I said it.

His finger slipped out of me, and he spun me around, pinning me back against the shower wall, away from the streaming water and into the radius of his burning stare. “Do it.”

“Please, Ian.” I moaned his name, feeling the ache twisting almost painful between my legs. My hands stroked their way down his chest and abdomen to reach his cock, but he grabbed my wrist before I could take him in my grasp. A looming darkness shadowed his face, as he dropped his head and latched his mouth over my nipple, and sucked. Hard.

I whimpered in response, shocks bolting through my body like an open wire of electricity.

“You can do better than that. Try again.” He gently bit down on my nipple and my knees trembled beneath me, wanting to melt to the ground.

“Ian, I…I need...” I stuttered out, unable to find a coherent response. My fingers helplessly flexed in his grip when he dropped to his knees before me, trailing his lips from my nipple, down my stomach.

The sound of the shower water hitting the tile, mixed with my frequent gasp and moan filled the air as he peppered kisses over my stomach, down till my navel. I had never been so wet, so vulnerable for anyone. Not even Michael. Yes, I may have had dreamed of him a few times, but what I had right now with Ian, was better than anything I had ever had with anyone.

“You need me to fuck you?” His fingers wrapped around my knees and hiked my leg up, settling it firmly over his shoulder. I stabled myself on one leg, aligning my back straight against the glass behind me. “You need my cock to fill you up?” His warm breath brushed against my clit, and my fingers weaved into his hair.

I was breathless. Panting. Silently begging.

“Yes. Oh please, yes.”

“Then ask me for it.” His fingers dug into my thighs as he spread me, baring my pussy to his mouth and dipped in.

I whimpered and gripped his shoulder for support when his mouth wandered around my upper lip. “I…I need you to…” The words slipped from my lips and dribbled down the shower drain, as his tongue slipped between my folds, caressing me with bold strokes.

I almost lost my mind.

“Say it, sweetheart. You need to ask what you need.” Two fingers slipped inside me and I looked down to find his eyes trained up on me, lips disappearing between my thighs.

It was so fucking hot. So…dirty. And it made blood rush to my head. By some miracle, words formed out in my brain and aligned with his demand.

“I…I need you to fuck me. Please Ian–” My fingers clenched in his hair and I buckled my hips, rubbing against the warm digits stroking my insides. Ian let out a groan that vibrated up my body and straight to my head, making my eyes roll to the back of my head. My insides began to quiver. And his fingers thrusted inside me, knuckles deep, assaulting every soft spot I didn’t even realized I had.

It was not long before I climbed the high. Higher. Higher. And I came…almost.

Ian pulled back before I could, leaving me hanging from the edge and stood up, tall and towering before me. My knees almost gave up but his hold on my hips held me upright.

“Let’s clean up first.” He said, not smiling, or looking amused. I managed to give him a soft nod, before he reached for the body wash and lathered it between his hands. And I followed his lead with my heart beating frantically in my throat.