Chapter 340
**Sara**
I reached for the bottom of his t-shirt, yanking it up with more eagerness than grace. He helped me, breaking contact just long enough to pull it over his head before his hand returned to its previous position.
"Jesus, Sara," he groaned, sliding a finger inside me while his thumb continued to work my clit. "You have no idea how much I've missed this."
"It's only been a week," I said, then immediately bit my lip as he curled his finger inside me, hitting a spot that made my knees weak.
"Only been a week?" Tom's eyebrows shot up in mock offense. "Only? Do you have any idea how fucking long seven days feels when all I can think about is being inside you?"
His words sent a fresh wave of heat through me. "Tell me more," I whispered, my hands running down his chest to the waistband of his jeans.
"Seven days of imagining you naked," he continued, adding a second finger that made me gasp. "Seven days of thinking about your tits, your ass, the way you taste." His thumb pressed harder against my clit. "Seven days of my cock aching for you."
"Fuck," I moaned, my head falling back against the tile wall.
"That's the plan," he smirked, removing his hand from my panties. I whimpered at the loss, but he quickly hooked his fingers into the waistband and dragged them down my legs. "Step out," he commanded.
I obeyed, kicking the panties aside as steam continued to fill the bathroom. Tom's eyes raked over me, taking in every inch of my naked body with an intensity that made me feel both vulnerable and powerful.
"Your turn," I said, reaching for the button of his jeans.
His hand caught mine, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "Patience, sunshine. We've got all day."
"Patience is overrated," I retorted, successfully popping the button open. "And I've been waiting a week, too, you know."
"Have you now?" His eyes gleamed with interest. "Been thinking about my cock while I was gone?"
The crude words on his lips sent a jolt straight between my legs. "Maybe," I admitted, sliding down his zipper with deliberate slowness.
"Maybe?" He raised an eyebrow, his hand returning to my pussy, fingers sliding through my wetness. "This doesn't feel like maybe to me."
I bit my lip, trying to maintain some semblance of composure while his fingers worked their magic. "Fine. Yes. I thought about you. Happy now?"
"Very Happy." His grin was pure sin as he pushed his jeans down his hips, revealing black boxer briefs that did nothing to hide his obvious arousal. "What exactly did you think about?"
"You're really going to make me say it?" My cheeks flushed, not from embarrassment but from the heat building inside me as his fingers continued their torturous circles.
"Absolutely." He stepped out of his jeans, kicking them aside. "I want to hear every filthy detail."
I groaned, partly from his words and partly because he'd just slid two fingers inside me again. "I thought about your cock," I admitted, my voice barely audible over the running water.
"Louder, sunshine. I couldn't hear you."
Fucking smug bastard. "I thought about your cock," I repeated, louder this time. "I thought about how it feels inside me."
His eyes darkened. "And how does it feel?"
"Big. Hard. Perfect." The words tumbled out as his thumb pressed against my clit, making coherent thought increasingly difficult. "Fuck, Tom."
"That's better." He hooked his thumbs into his boxers and pushed them down, his cock springing free.
Holy shit. A week apart had somehow made me forget just how impressive he was. My mouth went dry at the sight of him, hard and ready.
"See something you like?" he asked, the cocky grin returning.
I rolled my eyes, trying to seem unaffected despite the heat flooding my core. "You're so full of yourself."
"I'd rather be full of you," he countered, making me laugh.
"That was terrible," I said, but I couldn't stop smiling as I stepped toward him, closing the distance between us. "Absolutely awful line."
"Got you laughing, didn't it?" His hands settled on my hips, pulling me against him until I could feel his hard cock pressed against my stomach.
"Mmm, among other things." I reached between us, wrapping my fingers around his length. God, he was big, thick, and heavy in my palm. "I missed this."
He hissed through his teeth as I stroked him slowly. "Just this? Not the rest of me?"
"The rest is okay, I guess." I shrugged, fighting a smile. "But this part has some definite advantages."
"You're such a brat," he growled, his hand sliding up my back to tangle in my hair. He tugged gently, tilting my head back. "Maybe I should remind you who's in charge here."
My pulse quickened. "Maybe you should."
His eyes darkened at the challenge. Without warning, he spun me around, pressing me face-first against the cool tile wall. The contrast between the cold surface against my breasts and his hot body at my back sent shivers down my spine.
"Hands on the wall," he commanded, his voice low and dangerous in my ear.
I complied, placing my palms flat against the tile. Steam continued to fill the bathroom from the running shower, making everything feel dreamlike and hazy.
"Good girl." His praise sent a fresh wave of arousal through me. His hands skimmed down my sides, thumbs tracing the curve of my ass before one hand delivered a sharp smack that made me gasp.
"Tom!"
"Problem?" He smoothed his palm over the spot he'd just spanked, soothing the sting.
I bit my lip. "No."
"That's what I thought." He spanked me again, harder this time, and I couldn't help the moan that escaped me. "You like that, don't you? My good girl likes it a little rough."
"Yes," I admitted, pressing back against him.
His hand slid between my legs from behind, fingers finding my pussy already slick and ready. "Fuck, Sara. You're soaked."
"Your fault," I managed to say as he slipped two fingers inside me.
"I'll take full responsibility." He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made my knees buckle. His other arm wrapped around my waist, holding me up as he continued to fuck me with his fingers. "You gonna come for me like this? With just my fingers in your pussy?"
The filthy words in his refined accent nearly pushed me over the edge right there. "Maybe if you try harder," I challenged, earning another smack on my ass.
"Brat," he said again, but I could hear the smile in his voice. His thumb found my clit, circling it in time with the thrust of his fingers, and I felt the tension building inside me.
"Oh god, Tom," I moaned, my forehead pressing against the tile as pleasure coiled tighter in my core.
"That's it," he encouraged. "Let me feel you come on my fingers."
His words pushed me closer to the edge, but I wasn't ready to give in yet. "Make me," I gasped.
Tom chuckled, the sound dark and promising. "If that's how you want to play it..."
He withdrew his fingers, ignoring my whine of protest, and spun me to face him again. Before I could complain, he dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands gripping my thighs.
"Hold onto something," he warned, a wicked gleam in his eyes. Then his mouth was on me, his tongue flat against my clit.
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