Nola by Carolyn Faulkner

soapy
fingers made their way down there to that bubbly thatch and well between it,
nudging her legs apart, and bringing his own legs up to bracket hers. He leaned
slowly forward, pressing his mouth into that lavender scented mass of hair,
whispering, "Slide your legs over mine, Nola. I want to pleasure you."
    She hesitated,
and there had been a time when he would have turned her over and swatted her
bottom - or much worse - for that, but he was trying to learn a somewhat
different way to handle her, hopefully to the benefit of the both of them, so
he resisted that impulse and simply lay there, waiting for her to obey him.
    It didn't take
her much longer, probably because his thick middle finger had already claimed
that hidden territory and had her moaning from its first long, slow rub of that
already stiffened bud. He loved the way she looked when she'd finished doing as
he'd bidden, lying back against his chest and abdomen, splayed quite obscenely,
giving him completely unrestricted access to every luscious inch of her.
    He could feel
her shivering, though, and reached for the faucet to add more hot water. Then
he asked suddenly as soon as the thought popped into his brain, "Are you
afraid?"
    She bit her lip,
obviously not wanting to admit the truth to him.
    Brandon didn't
push. He reached up and helped her settle her head against his shoulder, and
nibbled down her neck, making her shiver even worse. "There's nothing to be
afraid of, Nola. I'm just going to use my fingers to make you feel good." He
kissed her then, slow and deep, with their tongues dancing excitedly together
as his fingers had their way with her, using the slickness of her body as well
as the soapy water to rub gently over the top and around the sides, then back
over the top of her small bit, feeling her shudders growing exponentially worse
as she moaned into his mouth.
    It was one of
the most exiting things he'd ever done, and he wanted
more.
    His free hand
roamed up to her breast, cupping and squeezing it just slightly, gently, then
expertly finding that peaked nipple and pinching it, just until her moans
reached a fever pitch. He wished he'd had that dildo by their bath side, and
made a mental note to get another and keep it in the cabinet close to the tub.
But for now, he simply rubbed and plucked and tweaked and flicked her until he
felt every muscle in her body tighten in what seemed like an almost painful
manner, and then she exploded in his arms, his mouth still over hers, drinking
in every one of her pleasured cries and not letting her go until every last
ounce of ecstasy had been squeezed from her body.
    She collapsed
back against him, panting in a very unladylike fashion. If they hadn't been
surrounded by water, she was quite sure that she would have been sweating
profusely, too. He did it to her every single time - he always knew exactly what
to do to her, how to touch her, what to say to her, even when and how to spank
her, dammit , to bring her to these unbelievable
heights and then hurl her over the precipice and into a free fall of ultimate,
unimaginable bliss.
    Yet this time,
she didn't feel used or forced, as she usually did. He was acting very
differently with her, even in this way. His arms were around her, holding her
tight, even though she could feel that his as yet unfulfilled needs met or
exceeded her own.
    That
thick length of him pressed up against her bottom, almost cradling her itself,
practically supporting her bottom. She certainly knew how strong and
unyielding it was while it was inside her, and she knew that he deserved the
same release he had given her.
    So, in an
unusual move for her - the first time she'd really taken the initiative between
them intimately at all, she turned over onto her stomach, still lying stretched
out on top of him. Then, holding his clearly startled black eyes as she reached
down and touched him voluntarily, guiding him inside her.
    She'd been on
top of him before, always at his behest, and had been