Fight with Me
Page 50

“Put your hair up,” He murmurs against my lips and turns away from me to start the water.  I grab a hair tie from his vanity drawer and twist my hair up so it doesn’t get wet.  Nate comes out of the shower, grabs my hand and pulls me back in with him.
He pours my shower gel in his hands, rubs them together to lather them up, and begins cleaning me, my front first, down my breasts and stomach, between my legs, but only briefly, then up my sides to my armpits.  I brace my hands on his hips and watch his handsome face as his eyes watch his hands roam my naked body.
“This is nice,” I murmur.
“Mmm,” he agrees.  “Turn around, please.”
I comply and hear him pour more gel in his hands, then he’s rubbing my back, my shoulders and neck, massaging me.  “Oh, God, babe, that’s good.”
He chuckles behind me.  “You’re a little tense, sweetheart.”
“I have a stressful job.  My boss is a tyrant.”
He slaps my ass with a soapy hand and I yelp in surprise and then giggle.  “Okay, he’s a sexy tyrant.”
Nate begins massaging my low back and I support myself on my hands on the tile wall.  God, he’s good with his hands.
He circles down to my ass and massages my buttocks, then slips a hand between the cheeks and into my folds.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet already.”
“Let me wash you.”  He drops his hand and I turn around, the water is rinsing me as I soap him up and return the favor of the massage, working on his back first.  When he turns around, I lather up his muscled chest and six-pack stomach, over his left side, tracing the tattoo that falls down his side, over his lean hip and onto his thigh.  The sleeve tattoo on his right arm also gets special attention, and I trace it over his shoulder and across his chest, around his nipple. I slide my hand down to his cock, loving how it feels in my slippery hands and move up and down, watching those sexy silver balls in the tip as he grows in my hand.
“Enough.”  His voice is low and ragged.  He quickly rinses his skin in the hot water, turns it off, and leads me out to the bathroom, drying us both.  He’s so focused on me tonight; washing me, drying me, as though he can’t stop touching me.
Please don’t ever stop touching me!
“Come on.”  He takes my hand, pulls the sash off a white terrycloth robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, and leads me to the bed.  The white headboard has slats in it, and I know that he’s about to tie me up.
“I’ve never been tied before,” I whisper.
“Look at me,” he pulls my chin up so he can look deeply into my eyes.  “This is new to me too, baby.  Let’s try.  If you don’t like it, just say so, and I’ll untie you.  I promise, I won’t hurt you.”
“You’d never hurt me.”  I stand on my tip-toes so I can kiss him softly.  “Where do you want me?”
Chapter Twenty
Nate wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me tightly against him, our naked flesh pressed together, and kisses me gently.  His lips are soft, brushing over mine, and then he takes it deeper, teasing my tongue with his.  I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on, enjoying his warmth, thrilled at his hard erection pushing against my belly.
I love that I turn him on like this.
His hands glide down my back to my ass, and he lifts me effortlessly up his torso.  I wrap my legs around him as he walks us to the bed, wraps one arm around my bottom, and climbs on his other hand and knees up the bed.
“I love how strong you are,” I whisper against his mouth.
“It does come in handy, doesn’t it?”
“Hmmm,” I agree.
“It helps that you’re so tiny.” He murmurs.
He lays me down on the cool sheets and grips both of my hands in his, lacing our fingers, and pulls them above my head.  I open my eyes to find him gazing down at me, his gray eyes on fire, his glorious dark hair falling around his face.  “Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod and he smiles down at me, places a chaste kiss on my lips, and pins both of my hands with one of his while he reaches for the terry cloth tie at my hip.
“Remember, if you don’t like this, just say stop.”
“Do we need a safe-word?” I ask sarcastically.
“No, baby, not tonight.”  Oh.  Does that mean we will in the future?
Before I can ask the question, Nate ties one end of the sash around my wrist, tight enough that I can’t pull my hand out, but loose enough that I can move.  He pulls it through the slats of the headboard and ties my other wrist the same way, making sure that I can’t pull my hands down past the top of my head.
“God you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs and sits back on his heels between my legs.  I feel completely exposed, and not a little vulnerable.  This is all new to me, and I’m not so sure about not being able to move my hands, but the hot look in Nate’s eyes keeps me where I am.
He smooths his hand down my arm, cups my cheek in his palm and brushes his thumb across my lower lip.  I bite the pad of his thumb, and his eyes narrow and darken with lust.
“Want it rough, baby?” he asks.
“I thought that’s what we’re doing,” I respond with a grin.
“Oh, we’ll get there.  First, I’m going to take my time with you.  I want to touch every inch of you, baby.”