Alissa
Bracing myself, I waited as Nate turned me around and began lathering up my back with the soap, then over my ass, and down my legs. Soft, gentle strokes. Oh God. My legs trembled. He touched me everywhere. And I mean everywhere. His touch felt so damn good. It made me weak. Shaky. Slick with desire. I moaned softly as he washed clear down to my feet, then gently lifted first one foot, then the other, cleaning each one. I’d never experienced anything so sensual before. His strokes turned into a gentle massage that made me weak with longing. Made me want. Made me crave.
Since I’d just taken a shower before going outside to find him, this shower wasn’t about cleansing. It was about developing trust and acceptance, and not being afraid of a man’s hands on me again. At least for me. For him, it was a deep exploration, getting to know every inch of my body, not exactly a possession, though he stroked over me so sensually, it was borderline sexual.
I was definitely not afraid right now. I was so hot. So wet. Nate could take me in the shower right now and I wouldn’t protest. There was something so erotic about touching, exploring each other, with water falling down on us.
He paused suddenly, lifting my arm for his inspection. “What does number twenty-four mean?”
I opened my eyes. He was staring at the tattoo Enrique had branded me with. I had forgotten all about it. It was a tiny tattoo, only about a centimeter across, but a branding nonetheless.
Number 24.
Heat flooded my cheeks. “It’s a brand. Enrique gave it to me. It’s how he keeps track of the women prisoners.” I lowered my gaze. “I was going to ask you to cut it off, but I never…got around to it.”
He dropped my arm. “I’ll remove it for you later, okay?”
I nodded. I had already discovered in my recent exploration that Nate didn’t have any tattoos, though he did have numerous scars on his body, most of them bullet wounds, I imagined. His body was still beautiful, even with all the scars. He was beautiful, inside and out.
He gently turned me fully toward him, then lathered the soap over my shoulders, my chest, my breasts, then down, continuing the sensual exploration. I closed my eyes and let out a soft moan as he moved over that most sensitive place. His touch was soft, gentle, barely there. Then gone.
He set the soap aside.
“Want me to wash your hair?”
I opened my eyes. “Yes.”
He reached for the shampoo, squirting a small amount in his palm. Then he gently began massaging it into my scalp. I couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped my lips. God, his touch felt so good. I closed my eyes again and tilted my head back while he rinsed the suds out, his fingers stroking across my scalp with gentle purpose. Then he squeezed the water from my hair.
“Alissa.” His voice was a husky whisper. I jerked my eyes open, his lust-filled gaze meeting mine. “It’s your move now.”
Suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be in control. It might be easier if I just let him take the lead. What if I turned into a bumbling idiot?
Oh, come on! It’s not like you’ve never been with a man before. Take charge, girl!
I swallowed hard and stared at his sleek, wet torso. I wanted him to touch me again. I liked it when he touched me. His touch was soothing, sensual. Erotic. How did I ask him to touch me again without sounding needy?
He must have sensed my discomfort. He turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, handing me a towel. “Here,” he murmured. “Shall we move this into the bedroom where you’ll be more comfortable?”
I nodded, unable to speak. I kept my gaze lowered as I dried off, my cheeks flushed. I rubbed the towel over my head, drying my hair as best as I could. He walked into the bedroom with his towel wrapped around his waist. I stood awkwardly in the bedroom doorway, with the towel wrapped around me, suddenly unsure of myself. Was I really ready for this?
I snatched Nate’s comb from the countertop and hesitated, watching as he shucked the towel and slid into the bed, pulling the covers up over him.
“You don’t have to ask, Alissa,” he said gently. “What’s mine is yours.”
My chest squeezed. He was so sweet, acting like I was his girlfriend, letting me use his things. Again, what man did that? I began untangling my hair, unable to look way from him.
He watched me from the bed. “Like I said, it’s your move, Alissa. No pressure.” His voice was gentle. “If you want to end this right now, that’s fine. But you’re more than welcome to join me. You’re in control, remember?” There was tenderness in his eyes, but also desire. He still wanted me.
And I wanted him.
He was letting me decide what, if anything, would happen next.
I set the comb down, hesitating only briefly, then strode toward the bed.
His gaze darkened as I reached him. He pulled the covers back invitingly. I took a deep breath, then tossed the towel aside, and slid in beside him. He wrapped an arm around me, gently pulling me against him. I curled into him, snuggling close. He was so big and hard and strong. He made me feel safe.
No one spoke. It was a little awkward, but also comforting, being held against his big, naked body. He didn’t try to kiss me. He just lay there, his fingers absently stroking over my hip.
I wanted more, but I was going to have to make the first move. Nate wanted me to be comfortable. He wanted me to be ready.
I slowly lifted my head off his chest and looked at him.
Just kiss him, already. You know you want to.
His eyes were hooded, but there was an intensity in his gaze that burned into me, unmistakable.
Feeling bold and ready to move forward, I leaned over and kissed him. Just a soft brush of lips against lips. His hand curled into a fist at my hip. As I leaned back, he followed me, his lips moving over mine, obviously not wanting me to stop.
Heat coiled deep in my loins. I halted my retreat and came back, kissing him again. And again. And once more. Soft, gentle brushes of lips against lips. I boldly slid over on top of him. His hands settled on my back, just above my hips.
Skin against skin. Hard against soft. Man against woman.
Another surge of desire coursed through me. Hot. Needy.
Oh God. I wanted. I needed. I was so ready.
His erection jutted out between us, an obvious indication of his arousal, not wanting to be ignored.
I sat up, straddling his hips. His gaze jerked to my breasts, darkening with obvious desire. I grabbed his hand and pressed it over my left breast, letting him know he could touch.
Gently, tenderly, he squeezed, stroked, his fingers pinching my nipple, then releasing. I closed my eyes and moaned, tipping my head back. God, I couldn’t remember a man’s touch ever feeling so good. Then both his hands were on my breasts, massaging, stroking, squeezing.
My breath hitched. I leaned into him, welcoming his touch.
He sat up on the bed, pulling me into his lap. I came willingly, straddling him more intimately, his erection long and hard and hot against my ass cheeks.
Then he sucked my breast into his mouth, rolling his tongue over and around, making my nipple pucker with arousal.
I let out a soft squeak, my hands lifting to his head, my fingers tangling in his soft hair. No man had ever made me feel like this before. He sucked and licked and lapped, feasting on first one breast, then the other. Over and over.
Moisture pooled between my thighs. Desire raged through me. I wanted. I needed.
God.
I pressed down against his erection, rubbing, trying to release the ache that was building inside me. I gasped as that small buddle of nerves that had been dead for so long suddenly came back to life. It was so sensitized. So eager. I rubbed against him again, and that was all it took to send me over the edge, the orgasm streaking through me like flames across a dry grassland.
It had been three long years since I’d felt anything so amazing. And never had it been quite like this. I shuddered and gradually came back down to earth.
Slipping a hand behind my head, he drew my mouth down to his, brushing his lips over mine. Gently, at first, then with eagerness, greediness. I kissed him back, wanting, needing. Our tongues tangled, mating, desperate for more. This felt so good. So right.
I rubbed against him again, and that alone nearly sent me back over the edge. Touching him like this was magical. Incredible. It’d never been so hot for a man before. So sensitive to touch. He moaned and closed his eyes. “Condom,” he rasped, reaching for the nightstand. “In there.”
I leaned over, opening the drawer. An unopened box of condoms sat inside. How many women had he brought back to his room? Jealousy swept through me. I didn’t want to think about him with other women.
I hesitated, my gaze jerking back to his. As if he’d read my thoughts, he said, “You’re the first to share my bed here. I promise. The others were just quickies. Whores. Nothing special. I didn’t bring them home.” He lowered his voice, his gaze darkening. “None of them could ever compare to you, Alissa.”
My face heated. Well, that was good to know. My heart beat a little happier knowing that. I opened the box and removed a condom.
And suddenly, I was nervous again.
Nate cupped my face in his hands. “You okay?” His words were gentle, his voice soft.
I looked into his eyes. “Yes. I think so. Just a little nervous.”
His hand closed over mine. He slipped the condom out of my grasp. “Don’t think so much. Just feel. Okay?”
I nodded.
Don’t think. Just feel.
“You’re in control,” he reminded gently.
I swallowed hard, unable to look away from the heat in his eyes.
This is Nate.
And then it hit me. I was in Nate’s bed. Naked. We’d been kissing and touching, and we were about to have sex. I wanted this. I wanted him.
I wanted his mouth on mine again. His hands on me. I wanted to feel him deep inside me.
I ran my hand over his pecs, stroking over his chest and down his abs. He leaned back without a word, his gaze growing hooded, as I touched him, familiarizing myself with his body. Almost instantly I was hot again, desire returning full force. God, he was so perfect. So beautifully male.
I lowered my head and kissed his nipples, one by one, then down his abs, and lower. I gently touched him there, feeling the length of him in my hand. His breath hitched. He closed his eyes.
Then I kissed him there. Gently. Briefly.
I’d never done that before. I’d never thought of that part of a man as being beautiful before. But Nate was beautiful everywhere. Even there.
He let out a soft moan. “Alissa.” His voice was hoarse, thick with desire.
I brought my mouth back to his, kissing him gently, knowing it was time. I was ready. And he was obviously ready. I didn’t think he could hold out much longer. I’d tortured him long enough.
He slipped the condom on while we kissed, probably so I wouldn’t notice. But I noticed. It didn’t scare me. Instead, it excited me. I was so ready for this. For him.
I settled against him, my core throbbing with need.
His hot gaze seared mine. “You’re in control,” he reminded gently, his voice husky and full of need. “It’s okay. Do whatever you want.”
There were no rough hands holding me down, no brute force, no pain, no one hurting me.
I was in control. No one was forcing me to do what I didn’t want to do.
I looked into Nate’s eyes as I slowly eased down onto him. There was no pain in our joining, just a slow, steady pressure that built as we moved together, gently rocking. His hands went to my hips. His eyelids drifted closed.
And I rode him. It was so beautiful. So amazing.
The first orgasm rocked through me swiftly. I gasped at the unexpected fierceness of it, tilting my head back. I kept moving as the pleasure increased, so intense, and then a second orgasm slammed through me. Nate’s hands closed over my breasts, gently kneading as I continued to ride him. Oh God. And then a third orgasm hit me, more powerful than the first two. Nate kept up the rhythm, his hands gripping my hips as he thrust upward several more times before reaching his own release. Feeling weak and heavy, and spent, I collapsed on his chest.
Afterwards, we lay there, our bodies still joined, not moving. Not speaking. Just content to be in each other’s arms.
That had been amazing. Happiness bubbled in my chest. Nate had brought me back to life, helping to end my long abstinence.
He got up and went into the bathroom, then returned moments later, drawing me against him. We cuddled together as sleep claimed us.
And I knew in that moment that I was in love with him.
He was the most amazing man.
A hero.
He’d freed me.
In more ways than one.