A Fever Dream of Desire
Karla moved through the silent house like a ghost, her heart hammering against her ribs. She knew he was there. Following the distant sound of rushing water, she slipped into the master bathroom. Through the steamed glass of the shower door, she saw the silhouette of the man who haunted her thoughts. With a slow, deliberate grace, she shed her dress and heels, leaving her in nothing but the lace lingerie and stockings he so adored.
She slid the door open and stepped into the spray. He didn’t speak; he simply smiled, pulling her wet body against his. The heat of the water was nothing compared to the fire igniting between them. He pressed her against the tiled wall, his hands roaming her curves with a possessive familiarity. He took a sponge, lathering it with gel, and began to wash her. He worked slowly, tracing the line of her neck and arms, the foam sliding over her skin in a tantalizing tease.
As he moved behind her, Karla felt the hard length of him pressing against her backside. She gasped, her breath hitching as he massaged her waist and hips, the wet lace of her panties clinging to her skin. He whispered for her to wait, keeping her pinned against the wall, prolonging the agony of anticipation. He used the showerhead to rinse her, the pressurized stream hitting her most sensitive spots until she felt she might shatter.
Then, he knelt. His tongue found her, swirling and tasting her with an intensity that made her knees buckle. He teased her clitoris and dove deep, his fingers joining the fray. The pleasure was an electric current, surging through her until she cried out, her body arching as she reached a crashing climax right there in his hands.
But the hunger wasn’t sated. Karla turned him around, dropping to her knees to return the favor. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with lust, before taking him into her mouth. She savored him, using her tongue and lips to drive him to the edge, feeling him throb against her throat. Just as he reached his limit, he pulled her up, turning her once more to face the wall.
He entered her in one powerful thrust, filling her completely. The rhythm was furious and raw, a desperate collision of skin and sweat. He hammered into her, their groans echoing in the small space, until he pulled away at the last second. He guided her down, and with a final, guttural shout, he released himself across her face and tongue, the warmth of him marking her completely.
He held her close, kissing her forehead as the adrenaline faded. But then, a sharp, rhythmic beeping pierced the silence. Karla jolted awake, her eyes snapping open to see the morning sun streaming through her bedroom window. She groaned, slapping the alarm clock off her nightstand. It had all been a dream. She sank back into her pillows, a frustrated smile on her lips. You absolute bastard, she whispered to the empty room, even in my dreams, you have me.