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I stand there for a moment, enjoy the view and letting my imagination fill in the blanks. But I want more than imagination, and so I peel off the nightgown and let it drop onto the floor. I don’t usually sleep in one unless there are guests in the house, but I’d been wearing it on the couch last night, and Damien hadn’t undressed me when he put me to bed. Now, I stand naked and watch the shape of him move in the steam. I’d been aroused even before I entered this room, simply from the thought of him. But now, seeing him in this wet heat, my body is on overdrive. My nipples are hard, my sex clenching with need. I want his touch—and I damn well intend to have it. His back is to me when I open the door, his face in the pounding water. I’ve let a wash of cool air in, though, and he turns to face me. As he does, I see the heat flare in his eyes. More interesting, though, is the way his cock hardens, the immediacy of his reaction making absolutely clear that Damien has no objections to my joining him here this morning. He opens his mouth to say something, but I press a finger over his lips, then step closer. He’s almost finished his shower, so his body is no longer slick with soap. I consider that a good thing, because as I kiss his chest, he tastes fresh and clean. I move slowly down, licking his skin, teasing the light smattering of hair on his chest. I flick my tongue over his nipple and am rewarded by the way he grabs my hair, his body stiffening beneath my hands that are sliding down his body, too, keeping time with the progress of my kisses. I go lower, dropping to my knees as I reach his navel. His abs are rock hard and the muscles quiver under my lips. I can tell I’m driving him crazy, and he tightens his grip on my hair even as his other hand reaches for the side of the stall to steady himself. Lower and lower, my lips teasing his skin, tracing that magical line of hair that leads from just below his navel all the way down to his cock. And when I reach it, thick and wet, I draw my tongue along the velvet steel as Damien moans under my ministrations. With purposeful slowness, I lick around the head, then flick the end of my tongue over the tip, tasting the pre-come. Then I draw him in, and as I do, the hand that Damien has twined in my hair shifts to the back of my head. At first he just holds me steady, but as I suck in long, deep strokes, he groans with satisfaction and longing, and tightens his grip. Right now, I’m the one in control, but I can feel that control slipping from me. No, not slipping. Damien is grabbing it by grabbing me—by holding tight to my hair and keeping me in place as he fucks my mouth, totally turning the tables on me. But I don’t care. I’m too turned on to care, and as his cock fills my mouth and water pounds down over us, I slip my hand between my legs and touch myself, then whimper softly. I’m slick and swollen and so turned on it’s painful, and as I suck my husband’s cock, I tease myself, seeking release. I’m close, too, so close I can feel electricity filling my body like an approaching thunderstorm. I can feel the tension building in Damien, too, and I know the explosion is coming. Doesn’t matter. He pulls back, leaving my mouth open in surprise. Then he pulls me to my feet and turns me around, his hands gliding over my wet skin as he spins me. “Hands on the wall,” he demands, and I comply eagerly as his fingers slide over my ass to find my core. And then his cock is there, and he’s pounding inside of me, his hands tight on my breasts as he orders me to “finish what you started, baby. Touch yourself. I want to feel you come with me.” I don’t hesitate, and as Damien’s wet body slaps against mine—as he thrusts deeper and deeper inside me—I tease my clit, feeling the shockwaves gather inside me, readying for an explosion. And when Damien’s body goes rigid—when he thrusts hard that one final time—when he releases completely inside me, that’s when I finally go over, my deep cry of satisfaction ringing out in harmony with his as our bodies shake and quiver together from the force of our simultaneous release. When the shockwaves have faded, he turns me gently in his arms, then rinses me off before shutting off the stream of warm water. He opens the door, and steam curls into the rest of the bathroom. He leads me out onto the fluffy bathmat, then uses a thick, cotton towel to dry me off. Only then do I lean my head back, smile, and speak to him for the first time. “Good morning, Mr. Stark.” “Yes,” he says, matching my grin. “It is.”J.Kenner (aka Julie Kenner) is the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Wall Street Journal and #1 International bestselling author of over seventy novels, novellas and short stories in a variety of genres.
Though known primarily for her award-winning and international bestselling erotic romances (including the Stark and Most Wanted series) that have reached as high as #2 on the New York Times bestseller list, JK has been writing full time for over a decade in a variety of genres including paranormal and contemporary romance, “chicklit” suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal mommy lit.
JK has been praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a “flair for dialogue and eccentric characterizations” and by RT Bookclub for having “cornered the market on sinfully attractive, dominant antiheroes and the women who swoon for them.” A five time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award, JK took home the first RITA trophy awarded in the category of erotic romance in 2014 for her novel, Claim Me (book 2 of her Stark Trilogy). Her Demon Hunting Soccer Mom series (as Julie Kenner) is currently in development with AwesomenessTV/Awestruck.
Her books have sold over three million copies and are published in over twenty languages.
In her previous career as an attorney, JK worked as a clerk on the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, and practiced primarily civil, entertainment and First Amendment litigation in Los Angeles and Irvine, California, as well as in Austin, Texas. She currently lives in Central Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and two rather spastic cats.
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