His hands reached out to cup her breasts. Reaching around the back of her as she rested her elbows on his shoulders and dropped her lips to his. The kiss, slow and as sensual as the song while his fingers popped the latch on her bra. Their mouths fusing, deepening the embrace as her right knee rested on his thigh and pushed toward his hip. Her exposed sex calling to him, even though they were not yet one. Instead, his hands were smoothing down her back and her nipples perked against his chest.
“We need to shower,” he said pulling back, uncomfortable with his own filth. Sure, his dried blood and sweat were coating his body.
Topaz stood, spun and turned on the spray.
“Don’t you want me in there before you start that?” he asked.
“So you can freeze from the icy water?” she retorted. “No, you need me to help you in I’m good with that, but I’m not going to have you sitting in there shivering.”
He reached down, recognizing he had never taken his leg off in front of a woman, well not one who wasn’t wearing scrubs. Definitely not one he’d been intimate or wanted to be intimate with. With a pop, he broke the seal of his prosthetic and set his leg on the bed.
Topaz’s eye stayed fixed on him before she knelt again and rolled down the sleeve over his stump slowly. A thin layer of skin peeling away to reveal a bad ulcer on the end and inflamed skin where the sleeve had held tight for too long.
“Let’s get you washed up and then I’ll have Red come take care of this properly.” Topaz placed his hand on her shoulder as if she could actually bear his weight. And as if they’d done it a thousand times before she shifted him into her shower and on the chair. Grabbing a fresh loofah from the drawer by her sink, she stepped back in the shower and straddled his leg as if he were about the get the best lap dance ever.
Instead, she squeezed a little soap on the porous sponge and started at the top of his head. Taking care when he hissed then scrubbing hard when she could. The smell of summer strawberries permeated the shower, while big enough barely for the two of them, she found a way to move around.
Scrubbing his back, he spied the pink poof she probably used on herself. He snagged it and the soap. When she came back around, he was going to tend to her.
When she faced him again, he began rubbing the poof, creating bubbles on her taut stomach and her deceptively luscious thighs.
“Hey,” she said lifting his chin with her finger right as the poof glided between her thighs. “You first,” she insisted. “Then you can rub, tug, lick, flip and do whatever you think necessary to get me clean.”
A smile curled through his whole body as the loofah dropped before him again and surrounded his cock. The strokes had his head lolling back as the warm water mixed with the strange sensation of the sponge. When her hand rested on his thigh the sensation around his dick changed to one, while still warm, was no longer sponge like.
Her lips glided down his shaft as she sucked him deep into her throat. While one hand helped balance her, the other tugged on his balls. Massaging the mounds in his sack as his fingers ran through her wet hair.
He wondered if she ever had long hair. Surely, at one time. Damned, if he didn’t want a fist full of it in his fingers. Her mouth created a rhythm, up and down. Her fingers tightening and when she pulled lightly on his sack, his body tightened ready to explode as he held on as long as he could. Tapping the back of Topaz’s neck in warning only tripped her into harder suction as her cheeks and tongue swaddled his cock.
Warm jets spurted from the tip of his cock as he was sure she was going to kill him, instead she drank what he gave her. Swallowing as more pulsed into the back of her throat and he cried out, his fist slamming into the wall as an orgasm rocketed through his body.
13
Swallowing was rarely Topaz’s first choice when it came to a proper blow job. The taps on her neck she appreciated and maybe that’s why she found herself unable to stop. Her own core clenching as the mix of Onyx and strawberries danced on her tongue. Almost as sweet as her flavor mixed with his.
Leaning back against the wall of her shower made it easier for her to wash his foot. His eyes watching her as she stroked his muscular thigh until the trail of bubbles was white and not stained red or brown. The blood, mixing with days of torture needed to be gone. An instant fix wasn’t what she was trying to do.. Even if Doc were on speed dial, it wouldn’t help like this did. Washing away what she couldn’t in the past. Cleaning the hatred, the only way she knew how was cathartic.
“Sorry about the strawberry soap,” she said as she pushed back up on her knees and began cleaning his left thigh. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t let men stay in my room.”
“I didn’t think you did,” he said then cocked his head to the side. “But I do have one question that’s been bothering me.”
“Shoot,” she said unsure how far down his thigh she should go. Strawberry soap wasn’t exactly betadine and the open wound where his knee should have been appeared painful. Even the rubbed raw part higher up the thigh couldn’t feel good. Taking care, she focused on him hissing, much like with the cuts on his head to determine how far to go.
“How does Mountain know your name is Sarah?” he asked.
His dark voice made her wonder why if she practically fell over herself to be his, why
