Once she was completely naked, he swiftly divested himself of his shoes and socks before pulling his shirt off and sending his trousers and briefs to the floor.
He guided her into the shower stall, angling the multiple shower heads to course over her body before he closed the door behind them.
“Oh, that feels so good,” Blair moaned as the pulsing spray jets massaged her back.
Draco just smiled as he filled his hands with shower gel then began to smooth the slick liquid over her shoulders and down her arms, then stroke his hands back up again. He repeated the movement several times before gently running his hands over her chest then down to cup and gently knead her breasts.
She’d never felt “enough” before Draco. Each of the other men she’d been with before she’d met him had teased her about her breast size. Not in a cruel way, but enough to ensure that the taunts of her teenage years rose large and ugly in her mind. Enough to make her feel less than feminine, less than a woman. But beneath Draco’s touch she had no doubt she was everything he wanted, the attention he paid to her breasts, to her tight, puckered nipples, left her in no doubt whatsoever.
He filled his hands again with the shower gel and continued his ministrations, sliding one hand down to cup her and spread her legs gently. He cleaned her with an intimacy she had never experienced with anyone else, but then Draco Sandrelli was like no other man Blair knew. And that was precisely why he both scintillated and terrified her. It would be too easy to succumb to his spell, to his lovemaking. To lose herself. No, no matter what delights he brought her—and she knew there would be many—she had to remain strong. To take what he offered tonight and then go back to the life she’d chosen.
A ripple of pleasure spread from her core, just a hint of what his touch promised, she knew. His hands slid around to her buttocks, softly squeezing them before running down the backs of her thighs. He dropped to his knees, his hands still running up and down the length of her legs, and she marveled she could even stand when he brought his mouth to the apex of her thighs and pressed his lips to the sensitive bundle of nerve endings there.
His tongue flicked over the nub, at first soft then more insistent. Blair knotted her fingers in his hair, holding him to her as he increased pressure, then teasingly slowed again. Her legs were trembling, barely able to hold her slight weight when he began to suckle at her. She let her head drop back as the scream of pleasure ejected from her in tune to the orgasm that nearly rent her apart.
Draco stood, supporting Blair’s quaking body with the strength of his, relishing that he could bring her so much pleasure, so much passion. For a woman who kept herself locked down so tight emotionally, he’d been ecstatic to discover the deeply hidden sensuality inside her. It was a waste for her to pour all that passion purely into her work, when she could have so much more if she would only embrace it.
He turned off the shower faucets and scooped Blair into his arms. She was so slender it was as if he lifted a child—she’d lost weight since her return to New Zealand. Weight, in his opinion, she could ill afford to lose. If he’d gauged her correctly, she’d no doubt been running herself ragged since leaving him. And if he didn’t miss his mark, she was already on the point of exhaustion—her physical reaction to their lovemaking already leaving her limp, shattered in his arms.
He wrapped her in a thick, dove-gray towel and dried her with painstaking care.
“Draco?”
Her voice made him look up from his ministrations.
“Hmm?” he answered, reaching for a fresh towel to dry her hair before skimming his own body dry.
“What about you?”
He smiled. “Later. For now, you rest, si?”
“I’m sorry, I—”
He put a fingertip to her lips. “Don’t. Don’t tell me you’re sorry.”
He guided her to the master bedroom and pulled back the voluminous, down-filled duvet and the crisp cotton sheet before gently pushing her down onto the mattress. She was asleep in moments, confirming his belief she’d been pushing herself too hard. It was certainly more than the languor of the aftermath of lovemaking that dragged her into somnolence. He tossed her damp towel to one corner of the room and climbed into the bed next to her, propping himself up slightly so he could watch her as she settled into a deeper sleep. Eventually, he flipped the control that dimmed the bedroom lights into darkness and settled down onto his pillow, scooping Blair against his body and pulling the sheet over them both before letting sleep claim him also.
It was her feather-light touch that woke him only a couple of hours later. Somewhere in the night she’d slid from his hold and he’d rolled onto his stomach, a position that was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as awareness flooded his body.