Heat: Fifty Erotic Fictions For The Fevered Mind

The bathwater steamed as it filled the oversized tub, a lazy swirl of lavender bubbles curling across the surface. Dim light glowed from the vanity. One candle. Nina had lit it without thinking-an old habit from when she used to draw baths just for herself.

Tonight, it wasn't just hers.

Behind her, Malcolm undressed quietly, the soft rustle of clothing replaced by the subtle creak of his knees as he stepped into the water.

She didn't turn around.

She didn't have to.

He settled in behind her, the water rising as his strong frame submerged. Then his thighs spread, and she slid between them, back to his chest.

He didn't say a word.

Just the sound of steam and breath, and the rhythmic drip of a faucet that needed fixing.

Nina leaned back until her head rested on his shoulder.

He exhaled slowly, the warmth of it brushing her neck. His arms didn't wrap around her. Not yet. But his presence was solid. Familiar. And tonight... electric.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, lips near her ear.

She nodded, swallowing. "Yeah. Just... tired."

His hand came up then-slow, gentle-brushing wet curls from her shoulder.

"I've missed touching you," he said.

Her chest clenched. The ache between her legs had nothing to do with sex at first-it was longing. But that changed the moment his hand moved lower, skimming across her collarbone, sliding beneath the surface of the water.

His fingers traced the top swell of her breast.

She didn't stop him.

His palm cupped her gently beneath the bubbles. Then firmer. His thumb brushed her nipple-once, then again-and she gasped.

Malcolm pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck, lips warm and open.

"Still so fucking soft," he whispered.

Nina let her head fall back. The heat of the bath, the heat of him-it was all too much and not enough.

His other hand moved now, slow and steady down her belly.

She tensed.

"Relax," he murmured. "Let me take care of you."

His fingers slipped between her thighs under the water, parting them gently.

Then-contact.

He found her clit in one slow, deliberate stroke. Her hips jolted.

"Oh-Malcolm..."

He moaned softly against her shoulder, mouth open now, sucking her skin as his fingers worked in firm, tight circles.

"You're already wet," he groaned. "You've missed this too, haven't you?"

She nodded, breathless. "Yes. Fuck-yes."

He slid lower, two fingers dipping into her under the water, then back up to circle her clit again-faster now, just a little rough.

The water sloshed gently around them.

Her breathing changed-short, ragged, building.

"You're gonna come for me in this tub," he said, biting her shoulder lightly. "I want to feel you shake in my hands."

"Malcolm, I-I'm so close-don't stop-"

"I'm not fucking stopping," he growled, fingers working faster now, harder. "Give it to me. Let me feel it."

Her whole body clenched.

She came with a choked gasp, thighs trembling, her back arching off his chest as the orgasm ripped through her, hot and desperate, her cunt pulsing in the water, hips rocking into his hand.

He held her through it, kissing her neck, whispering filth and love in the same breath.

When she finally melted against him again, chest heaving, lips parted, he kissed her temple.

"I'm just getting started."

Nina stepped out of the bath first, the air cool on her skin, water glistening down her thighs. She reached for a towel, but Malcolm was already there-his eyes slow, dark, burning.

"Let me," he said softly.

He took the towel from her hands and began to dry her-slowly. Not just dabbing or rubbing, but dragging it over her skin like he was savoring each drop. He knelt before her, eyes on her as he dried her legs, then up her stomach, then her breasts, cupping one in his hand as he patted it dry.

"You're beautiful when you're wrecked," he murmured, brushing his thumb across her nipple.

"Malcolm..." she whispered, but her voice faltered as he rose to his feet.

He kissed her lips. Then her jaw. Then down again, kneeling on the fluffy bathroom rug. His hands slid up her thighs and pulled her gently toward him.

"Lie down," he said.

Nina let herself sink onto the rug, bare back against the soft pile, hair damp, legs folding open slowly.

Her breath hitched as Malcolm leaned in and kissed the inside of one knee. Then the other.

Then he kissed higher.

And higher.

And then he was there-face between her thighs, hands firm on her hips, breath hot against her wet folds.

He moaned before even touching her, like just the scent of her pussy made him ache.

Then his tongue touched her.

One slow, teasing lick-up the entire length of her slit. Nina's hips jumped.

"Oh-fuck..."

He licked again. Then flattened his tongue and pressed deeper-slow, warm, thorough. Like he wasn't just eating her-he was tasting her.

His lips wrapped around her clit, gentle at first, then sucking harder.

Nina arched, hands gripping the edge of the tile floor beside the rug.

"God-Malcolm-fuck, you're so good at that-"

He didn't answer. Just groaned into her pussy, tongue flicking, mouth wet, beard dragging softly along her thighs.

He slid two fingers into her-slow and deep-and curved them perfectly as he sucked her clit with slow, devastating pulses.

"Jesus-don't stop-please, don't fucking stop-"

He didn't.

He buried his face deeper, tongue working her clit in fast, filthy circles now, matching the rhythm of his fingers thrusting into her. Her juices slicked his palm. Her thighs clenched around his head.

She was panting, sweat forming at her temples, fingers scrabbling at the tile.

"I'm gonna-oh fuck-Malcolm-I'm coming-I'm coming-"

She grabbed a towel, bit into it, and screamed as her orgasm tore through her. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, soaking him, thighs trembling violently on either side of his face.

He licked her through it. Every spasm. Every twitch.

When she finally collapsed back against the rug, legs spread, chest rising fast, he looked up at her.

His lips were slick. His eyes were wicked.

"I could live down there," he said.

She laughed through a moan. "God, I forgot what that felt like..."

"Don't worry," he said, crawling up her body. "I'll remind you again."

The bathroom was warm, fogged with steam and breath and the ghost of everything they hadn't said for months.

Nina lay sprawled on the rug, legs spread, flushed and dazed, his taste still lingering in the back of her throat. Malcolm hovered above her, his cock rock-hard, glistening at the tip with precum, veins pulsing along the shaft.

She looked at him-really looked-and her stomach clenched.

"I want you," she whispered. "Now."

His voice came low and rough. "Turn around."

She did.

Crawled to the edge of the tub. Braced her forearms on the cool porcelain. Arched her back. Pushed her ass up and back like she already knew exactly how he liked it.

Her pussy was still wet, glistening, swollen from his mouth. Her thighs trembled slightly with anticipation.

He stepped behind her, one hand gripping her waist, the other guiding the thick head of his cock to her entrance.

"Look at you," he breathed. "Fucking soaked. You need this cock, don't you?"

She moaned, grinding back against him. "Yes. Deep. Slow. Make me feel it."

He pushed in.

One long, thick stroke.

"Fuuuuuck," she moaned, back arching deeper. "Malcolm-fuck-you're so deep-"

He stayed there for a moment, buried to the hilt, his hands on her hips, breathing hard, her warmth pulsing around him.

Then he pulled back-and started to fuck her.

Not wild. Not fast.

Deep.

Each stroke deliberate, filling her up, dragging out of her tight, wet heat and sliding back in with a slick slap. Her tits bounced with every thrust. Her moans grew louder, higher.

"God, yes-just like that-keep going-"

He leaned forward, chest to her back, mouth near her ear.

"You missed this cock," he whispered. "Didn't you?"

"Yes," she gasped. "I fucking craved it-"

"You like being bent over the same tub where I made you come with my fingers?" His hand snaked around her front, found her clit, rubbed in tight, fast circles.

She sobbed.

"Malcolm-fuck-I'm gonna come-*don't stop-please-"

"Come with me," he growled. "Let me feel you squeeze my cock while I fill you up."

She broke.

Her orgasm hit hard-pussy clenching, crying out as her knees buckled, her hands clawing at the tub. She came loud, raw, falling apart around him.

Malcolm grunted, thrust twice more, then groaned deep as he spilled inside her, cock twitching, hips grinding into her ass.

They stayed like that-sweaty, shaking, still joined.

He kissed her back. Her shoulder. Her neck.

She turned her head just enough to meet his eyes.

And then she smiled.

"Guess we needed a bath to wash all that silence off."

He kissed her temple.

"Next time," he said, breathless, "we're starting in the shower."