“Aren’t you joining me?” I ask.
“Just let me worship you,” Edward says, his voice low and husky, and it makes my breath catch in my throat.
I watch as he takes off his jacket and then rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, before opening a cupboard by the jacuzzi and taking out a soft sponge. He dips it into the water in front of me and then squeezes it out carefully, before reaching for my hand. I can only watch, entranced, as he begins to rub the soapy sponge over my hand, cleaning between my fingers, the soft trace of the material over my skin almost tickling me.
Edward continues to wash up my forearm in slow circling motions, paying attention to every inch of my skin. The glide of the sponge is a light massage across my muscles, as he works his way along my upper arm to my shoulder. There he lingers for longer, working the muscles and easing any last remaining traces of tension out of me, making me feel so relaxed and calm.
The gently bubbling water, the scent in the air, and the music combine to form a kind of paradise moment as Edward moves the sponge over to my left arm, starting from my fingers and moving to my shoulder like before. I can’t ever remember feeling as relaxed or as cherished as this.
Edward moves the sponge to my chest, washing across my collarbones, and just when I think he will begin to wash and massage my breasts, his touch disappears. I open eyes that I hadn’t realized I had closed to see him fishing in the water, before he brings up my right foot out of the bubbles and begins to soap it down. All the way up my leg he moves in careful circles, making me catch my breath as he moves up my inner thigh. I want him to touch me, but he just teases me before moving to my left leg, working everything over again.
He leans in to kiss me, a sweet and lingering kiss on the mouth, while his hands move under the water to glide over my stomach. The edge of his sleeves are wet now, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind. I close my eyes again in bliss, letting my other senses carry me away as he soaps me down.
Then, at last, I feel his touch on my breasts. I lift my chest towards him instinctively, wanting more, but he maintains that smooth pace, washing each of my breasts in turn with concentric circles that eventually culminate in my nipples, to which he gives special attention. I gasp and moan as he teases them, making them stand on end so sharply it almost hurts, sending a deep and throbbing need to the pit of my stomach.
His hands dip lower then, lower and lower still, until the sponge is between my legs, carefully and slowly circling until it brushes over the nerves that are already on fire with my need. I gasp and cling onto his arm, desperate in case he decides to pull away and tease me again. I want his touch. I need it.
Edward eases into a soft and gentle rhythm, the sponge moving back and forth across my most sensitive parts, making my lips throb and swell with arousal and need. I throw my head back and moan out loud. This is nothing like the other night, when he pushed me to a fever pitch with fast licks and flicks. It’s soft and measured, more intimate and loving, and it brings me to the edge just the same.
“I don’t think I can hold off any longer,” Edward murmurs. I open my eyes and see that his face is tight with need, his eyes hooded with desire. It makes my knees feel weak as I look at him. “I want to take you.”
“Then do it,” I whisper, because even if he has another fifty hours of the ultimate pampering waiting for me, I would give it all up to be in his bed.
Edward leans forward and, before I can ask what he’s doing, his arms go around me under the water. His shirt is soaking wet now as he holds me against him. The muscles in his arms strain and bunch around me as he lifts me into his arms as if I weigh nothing, making me instinctively wrap my arms around him. He doesn’t seem to care about the water as he carries me, dripping onto the carpet, into the master bedroom and onto the bed.
Edward lies me down on the covers and moves over the top of me as he did in the hotel, claiming my lips with hot kisses that speak of his need and urgency. There are too many barriers stopping us from being skin to skin all of a sudden and I’m impatient as I reach for the buttons of his shirt, my fingers fumbling and slipping on the water that slicks the fabric tight to his abs. With a growl low in his throat, Edward sits up and rips the shirt open, letting buttons scatter to either side of us as he throws the ruined fabric to one side.
He shifts his hips and slides to the side of me for a moment, undoing his belt and unzipping his trousers, making my breath come in faster as I realize what comes next. He shucks everything in one go, leaving me to stare at his member, thick and hard like a rod between his legs. It’s bigger than I imagined, bigger than I thought would be possible – it has to fit inside of me, after all – and thickly veined.
Then Edward is over me again, his tip brushing a sticky trail against my upper thigh as he lowers himself to kiss me, deeply,
