Friday, July 22, 2016

Wet Sex

I've always found a scene that involves two people getting wet to be very erotic. And they don't even have to be naked. There's just something about being pelted with water, whether in the shower or outside in the rain, that stimulates something deep inside us to let go of our emotions, whether it's kissing, touching, or all out making love.

She glanced out her window, seeing him standing there in the rain. He'd removed his shirt, letting the storm wash over him, but she knew it wouldn't douse the anger steaming inside him. Or the need to hurt someone. Her heart ached because she knew what he needed, she had the power to calm the monster before it was too late. But he frightened her, too. Still, she went outside, walking slowly toward him as he watched her with narrowed eyes. She knew what would happen if she got too close, she knew what he would demand from her. Soaked by the time she reached him, she only had a second to take in his savage expression before he snatched her to him and attacked. Lust exploded between them.

He was tormented by what he'd done, and needed to wash the blood and filth away. Standing beneath the stinging spray of the shower did nothing to comfort him, or erase the memory of what he'd done to her. And then she stepped into the shower, naked as he, and trusting. So very trusting. She should hate him and yet she came to him, offering herself to him in a silent invitation. As her hands came up to rest upon his chest, as the water soaked her long hair and pelted over them, he lost control. A tormented groan escaped him as he accepted her sweet surrender. He'd hurt her, destroyed her, and yet she was going to be his savior. He grasped her small hands, his dick rising between her silken thighs, and he knew nothing on earth would stop him from consuming her.

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