“Sit back on the edge,” he encouraged.
I did, and then with a wicked grin, he said, “Now open your legs.”
A moan escaped me.
He moved through the water, fitting himself between my thighs that had no problem obeying his commands. They’d fallen right apart, as if this was an everyday occurrence.
A thrill raced through me. If I made this thing with Banjo official, this could happen every day. All our nights could be like this. Filled with his hands on my body, mine on his.
His tongue found my center, and it only took him moments to work me into a frenzy. I leaned back on the wall, my legs trembling with the power of an orgasm barreling down on me.
“Banjo,” I panted.
He suddenly stood, water pouring down his long, lean, tight body in tiny rivers.
I whimpered in need, needing him to get over the edge.
“Not yet,” he said, stepping from the bath.