Chapter 22

Kendra

I was going to tell him to get the hell out when I turned around to see him standing in the bathroom. The idea of slapping him across the face again sprang to mind. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. The moment was just so sexual that I let it take hold of me.

I could feel him devouring me with his eyes. I could sense his hunger and his desire in the way he stared. I let him stare. And then he turned and closed the bathroom door, locking us away from the rest of the world. I let him do that, too. I let him step into me and kiss me on the neck. I let him work his way down my body, kissing my nipples and kneading my breasts. And I let him drop to his knees, remove my panties, and taste me for the very first time.

It just felt too good to stop. I knew that it was wrong. I was still furious with him, after all. I hadn’t forgotten how he had treated me. There was no way I was going to forget that. But I was weak. As he pushed me up on the counter and spread my legs, I knew that there was no stopping him. It wasn’t forgiveness, though. I preferred to think of it as getting what I was owed.

On the counter, I kept my legs spread as he buried his head between my thighs. All the while, his tongue worked my pussy. He started by licking inside my lips and pushing his tongue inside of me. He then pulled his tongue out and licked me again, before plunging it back inside.

The whole time, he purposefully avoided my clit. His tongue would move toward it, before darting away. I would feel the barest hint of it, taking in a deep breath in preparation before he denied me. Again and again. And each time he did, I could feel my clit swell. It grew and grew, engorged in the moment. It quivered and ached for his tongue, begging for some attention.

And then, after what seemed like forever, he gave in.

His tongue ran over the tip of my clit, and a bolt of lightning shot up my legs. I grabbed onto the top of his head, steadying myself as his tongue ran over it again.

“Fuck,” I moaned, unable to help myself as his wet tongue began to massage my clit in rhythm to my deep, steady breathing.

Steam filled the room, blanketing the two of us in its heat. I leaned back and accepted Grant’s apology. And to his credit, he knew what he was doing down there. I had never been eaten like that before. He seemed to be a part of me, able to read my mind as he sucked and licked me. It was never too hard or too soft. Never too wet or dry. It was perfect.

I wanted to come all over his face. I wanted him to taste me forever. I wanted him to bathe in it. But I also wanted him to fuck me.

“Grant,” I said. Softly at first. Out of breath, I could barely speak. “Grant. I want you to fuck me.”

He pulled his head from between my thighs and looked me in the eyes. “Okay.”

As he stood up, I pulled him into me, smothering him in my kisses. Our lips locked onto one another’s. Steam from the shower filled the room. The heat and passion between us was incredible. In that moment, I forgot why I was mad at him. I forgot everything he did to me. I didn’t care. All I wanted was to feel him inside of me.

My hands went to his belt, undoing it. His pants dropped to the floor around his ankles. His shirt was off a second after that, and his boxers another second after that. His huge cock poked and prodded at me, already as hard as I’d ever seen it. He spread my legs and prepared to thrust into me, but I stopped him.

“No, in the shower.”

He nodded his head, taking my hand and leading me into the shower. The warm water covered the two of us as we locked into each other’s arms. His hands ran over my entire body, scratching and stroking me. My hand moved straight for his hard length, wrapping around it and squeezing it.

There was a soap pump on the wall in the shower. I pumped a dab of soap into my palm and coated his cock with it. I massaged and stroked it, keeping it hard. All the while, he kissed at my neck, my face, and my tits. His hands wrapped around my ass, pulling me into him. His cock pressed itself against my thighs. I had to feel him inside me.

I lifted my right leg up and wrapped it around his waist. As I did, my hand went back to his stiff prick and guided it into me. I gasped as his thick member plunged into me. Again, I had forgotten just how big he was.

I struggled to take him all at first, as merely his head entered me. But then, slowly, he pushed himself up and into me. My lips spread apart, and I swallowed him whole. Once he was in me, he pushed me back so I was up against the wall. Water poured down my back and onto my face. The heat was incredible.

Making sure to stay inside of me the whole time, he began to grind against me. It wasn’t hard and fast like it had been before, but soft and sensual. There were no fast movements or jerky attempts at getting himself off. He made it all about me.

In and out, in and out. He moved to my breathing, and I moaned in pleasure every time he entered me. His spare hand rubbed around my clit as he did, doing all it could to bring me to climax.

In and out he moved, his huge cock sliding as deep into me as it could. I could feel all of him, opening me up. I could feel all of him doing everything in his power to bring me to climax. And then I did.

It started in my toes. That tingling sensation. Then it moved up my legs. They began to shake as he increased his speed. He bit down onto my neck, an act which seemed to release a fire in my stomach as the sensation spread to all of my limbs.

“I’m going to come,” I whispered in his ear.

“Good,” he whispered back.

His speed increased and so did my breathing. It became fast and intense. Hard and rough. He gave me everything I needed to reach my climax. My entire body shook, my pussy clenched around his cock, my knees buckled, my stomach gave out, and my heart ached. All the while, he stayed inside of me, keeping himself there until my body stopped shaking.

It was only when I was done that he slowly, very slowly, pulled his still hard cock from me. He hadn’t orgasmed. I didn’t even think he was close. And for some reason, I was glad. This moment was all about me. This time, he was fucking me and not the other way around.

I pushed him back before turning the water off. His cock was still hard as I stepped around him, out of the shower, and toward my towel. Wordlessly, I dried myself off, only too aware of the way that he stared at me. I don’t think he was mad at me for not finishing him off, but confused. As if he had no idea what to do with himself.

“Now what?” he finally asked as I wrapped the towel around myself.

“What do you mean?” I asked back as I unlocked the bathroom door. He still stood in the shower, dripping wet.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

I had never heard him sound so nervous. He reminded me of the sweet boy I knew in high school, asking out a girl who he wasn’t sure liked him back. It gave me an odd sense of power.

In truth, I would have loved nothing more than to spend the night with him. I would have loved to have wrapped myself in his arms and fallen asleep to the sound of his deep breathing. And more than that, I would have loved to have woken up in the morning, relishing in his smell, the sound of his voice, and the feeling of his body draped over mine.

But I couldn’t. Now that I was done with him and I had finally gotten mine, I remembered what he had done to me earlier that day. I still couldn’t forgive him. Not fully anyway. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to forgive him, but if forgiveness was possible, it would take time. Grant had made me work so many times to regain his trust. It had been a running theme in our relationship. And I understood his hesitation. I had betrayed him in the past and hurt him.

But this time, he’d hurt me. He’d betrayed me. If he ever hoped for there to be anything between us, it was his turn to work at regaining my trust. And that trust wouldn’t come easy after what he’d done. I needed the strength to stand firm and keep resisting him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said, opening the bathroom door. “I think you should spend the night back in your room. And me in mine.”

“And tomorrow?” he asked, still not moving.

“Tomorrow, I want to go home. Nothing has changed.” I took one more hard look at his face. Grant looked dejected and even a bit sad. He looked like an abandoned puppy, pouting at being left outside in the rain. Good. I turned and walked back into the bedroom.

I quickly got changed into my pajamas, not wanting to be naked in front of him again. Sure enough, the moment I had my clothes on, he stumbled from the bathroom, still soaking wet, his clothes scrunched up in his hand. He didn’t even bother looking at me as he made his way into his room and closed the door behind him.

I slept like a baby that night. It wasn’t just because of the sex, either. Although sleeping after sex was always easier and more relaxing. The reason I slept so well was that I finally felt like I’d reclaimed some of my power back from Grant.

He always took control of me, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing sometimes. But I’d shown him he couldn’t just treat me however he wanted and get away with it. I wasn’t a piece of trash he could kick around when he felt like being cruel. I had limits, and he had pushed those limits too far. He understood that. The steamy session in the bathroom had been entirely about me and my pleasure. Grant had been apologizing for the way he had treated me. And afterwards, I had shut him down like he had shut me down so many times in the past.

My only worry now was how he would treat me as a result of what happened. I hoped that he would be mature about everything. I hoped that maybe, he would actually tell me he was sorry in the morning, and we could begin to move on. Despite everything that had happened, I still cared about him and wanted to be with him. But on equal terms. Grant needed to respect me. If he couldn’t do that, there was no hope for our future.