Riot
Page 33

 Jamie Begley

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She loved her shower. It was large with tan tiles, giving it a spa atmosphere.
She washed her hair, leaning her head back as she rinsed out the shampoo. When she leaned her head forward, she saw a large figure standing there. A gargled scream escaped her as she cowered against the shower wall.
“Grace! Stop. It’s me!” Ice’s voice broke through her sudden terror.
Gasping, she placed her hand on the shower wall. When Ice reached for her, pulling her close, she shuddered against him, letting the fear leave her.
“Okay now?” Ice rubbed her back. “I wanted to take a shower with you, but since you’re finished, you can help me.”
He handed her the body wash from the small shelf. It took her a couple of tries before she managed to open the top and squirt some into her hand. Putting the bottle back on the shelf, she rubbed the wash into his skin as her hands explored his flesh. Her mind turned away from the dark memories of her past to the living, breathing man standing in front of her, his hard body giving her the control she often felt she didn’t have.
She pushed him gently back, farther under the running water, letting it rinse the soap away. Her mouth then went to his chest, sliding across until her lips touched his nipple. She sucked it into her mouth, surprised when it hardened.
Ice took one of her hands she had placed on his chest, guiding it across his lean stomach into the nest of curly hair above his cock. Grace took the hint; sliding her hand free of his, she gingerly touched his cock.
During the last several weeks, when they’d had sex, Ice had done all the work. She hadn’t been brave enough to touch him, too afraid of hurting him with the piercing in the head. Therefore, her movements were cautious at first until Ice wrapped his fist in her hair, tilting her head back to take her mouth in a passionate kiss. Instantly, the desire to reciprocate the pleasure he always gave her was brought forth.
Her hand slid along his length, feeling the metal balls on each side of his still-hardening cock. Braver now, she began a pumping motion with her hand, making Ice groan and arch his hips toward her.
His mouth left hers, going to the side of her neck, which already had a tender spot. She tried to turn her neck so he wouldn’t have the same place, but Ice held her still with his hand in her hair.
“Ice, that mark is just beginning to go away. I have to wear high collars or put makeup on it,” she fussed.
Ice didn’t stop, taking the small area of skin in his mouth. “It shows you’re mine. When I see it or you’re wearing your prim clothes, I imagine my dick in you, begging me to give it to you harder.”
Grace whimpered at his words, letting him suck her flesh before she managed to lean forward and kiss his chest. She lowered herself to the floor as she followed the trail of the water down his slick body until she knelt before him, her hand continuing to glide effortlessly up and down his cock.

Ice braced a hand on the shower wall as she raised his cock to her lips. Softly, she licked his balls. Thinking about the bar inside the head had her wincing and being even gentler while she worked her way back up his length.
“Baby?”
“Yes?” she moaned, letting her tongue explore the flesh under the tip.
“Remember what I said about liking a little pain?
God, did she remember. Would a woman ever forget words like that?
She grasped his cock firmer in her hand as she took the entire tip into her mouth. Letting herself forget about the possibility of injuring him, she began to suck him strongly. The hand in her hair showed her how he wanted her to move, and his grunted responses told her how to use her tongue as she sucked him. She could barely manage half of his length before she began gagging, feeling like an amateur. However, she followed his instructions to breathe through her nose as he thrust inside her mouth.
“That’s it, baby. Open your mouth wider for me.”
Grace already felt as if her mouth was stretched to its limits, but she scooted closer to him, laying her hands on his thighs for leverage as she opened her mouth until he could slide another inch inside.
“Damn, baby, I’m going to come.”
Grace swelled with pride at pleasuring Ice the way he had her, wanting to give him everything, and ignored the hand in her hair, trying to pull her back as he came down her throat.
“Baby, damn. I warned you…” His groans and sighs filled the shower.
Grace gave his cock a final lick before she stood up. “Did I do well?”
Ice leaned against the wall, still trying to catch his breath. He’d had his dick sucked regularly since he was fourteen, some experienced, some fucking bad. What Grace lacked in skill, she more than made up for in eagerness.
“Baby, I can honestly say that was the best I ever had.”
 
 
Chapter 19
 
Grace slammed down Ice’s plate of cold sandwiches on the table in front of him then sat down with her own plate, which held a steak, small fingerling potatoes, and a homemade roll smothered in butter.
She bit into the roll, enjoying the warm buttery taste, ignoring Ice’s glare.
“I take it you’re still pissed about what I said; even though it was hours ago and I took you riding for an extra hour, even though my ass is sore from driving back and forth to see my baby.”
She choked down her bite of roll. “I’ve asked you repeatedly not to call me baby. I’m not your baby. One day, you’ll have a child. You can call it baby.”
“If I had a kid, I’d call it a kid. But I’m never going to have a kid. I call you my baby because I like taking care of you, making sure you have everything you need, and because”—Ice glanced own at his plate, pushing it away slightly—“you’ve never been anyone else’s, only mine. I never had that before.”
Grace felt dismayed and honored by his admission. She had struggled for so many years for her independence from her family. While they had learned to accept it to make her happy, it hurt Ice’s archaic masculine pride.
“Fine. You can call me baby.”
Ice nodded, and Grace began cutting her steak.
“You still pissed?”
Her steak knife banged to her plate. “I had just given you my first blowjob, and instead of saying something romantic or even something like, maybe, good job, you compared it to others you’d had by God knows how many women,” she hissed.
“I said it was the best.”
His male reasoning had her clutching the knife in her hand. “How would you like it if I compared something you do to someone else?”
“Like what?” he asked suspiciously.
She laid down her knife and took a bite of her steak, chewing thoughtfully. “I know. When I went out with Jones—”
“Who’s Jones?” Ice stiffened.
“He’s a professor from the college,” Grace explained. “Like I was saying, when I went out with Jones—”
“How many times did you go out with him?”
“If you will let me talk, I will tell you.”
Ice’s mouth snapped closed.
“When I went out with Jones before the prison riot, he took me to dinner. He complimented me on how much he admired my teaching skills, how my yard looked, on how well my dogs behaved…” At that, Ice snorted, but she ignored it and continued. “Even on how pretty I looked in the candlelight at our table.”