My hands slide down to her thighs. “Jump,” I whisper.
She does.
Her legs wrap around my waist, water cascading over both of us as I brace her against the tile. Her breath trembles against my neck. My cock is hard, aching even, pressed perfectly between us.
“You’re killing me,” she whispers.
I nip her lower lip, gentle but possessive. “You started it, standing there staring like you wanted to devour me.”
She hides her face in my shoulder, laughing breathlessly. I tilt her chin up, making her meet my eyes.
“Don’t hide. Not from me.”
Her pupils blow wide, and she kisses me again—slow this time, exploring, learning me. Her hands roam my back, nails scraping lightly, making me hiss.
I slide one hand up her spine. The noise she makes is pure sweetness. When I cup her ass, lifting her higher, she moans softly into my mouth.
“I want…” she says, trailing off like she’s afraid of the words.
I run my thumb across her cheek. “Tell me.”
“I want you.”
Every muscle in my body tightens. “Then you have me.”
The shower pours around us, hot water steaming, filling the space with heat and breath and the sound of her stifled moans. My touches grow bolder—her thighs, the slope of her waist, the soft underside of her breast through the wet shirt.
“Tony,” She shivers.
I grin wickedly. “You want it, baby?”
She nods. She’s flushed, water beading across her bare skin, nipples tight, curves soft and perfect.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “You’re beautiful.”
Her breath hitches at the hunger in my voice.
I lower my head, kissing her collarbone, her shoulder, the swell of her breast. When my mouth closes around her nipple, she gasps, fingers threading into my hair.
Her body arches.
Her hips rock.
And I’m gone—completely undone by the way she responds to me.
Her back hits the tile gently as I press closer, grinding against her slow, deep, torturously controlled because I want her begging before I take her.
“Tony, please,” she whispers.
I lift my head, thumb brushing her swollen lower lip. “Please what, baby?”
She trembles. “Touch me.”
I grin. “Oh, I plan to.”
But just as my hand trails lower, ready to give her exactly what she’s begging for… the water sputters.
Pressure changes.
