The sheer concentration in his expression, like I was something to be studied, to be memorized. No one had ever looked at me like that.
Like I was the air.
"Please," I whispered.
He bit his bottom lip, his jaw flexing before he finally gave me what I wanted. His right hand circled my swollen, aching clit, while his left kept tugging at my nipples, pushing me closer, higher, faster than I could handle.
The pleasure was blinding, a white-hot pulse that built deep inside me, coiling tighter, hotter until it exploded.
My scream echoed off the tiled walls, the water sloshing against the sides of the tub as my body convulsed around his touch. Lightning, sharp, exhilarating, all-consuming, shot through me, my body pulsing, shaking, unraveling.
By the time I caught my breath, my limbs felt liquid, my muscles boneless. But the moment I met his gaze, I made a snap decision. I wanted him on top of me. I gripped the waistband of his joggers, yanked him forward, into the water, onto me, crashing my lips into his.
He groaned, the sound deep and guttural, as my legs wrapped around him, trapping him against me. The kiss was fire and hunger and heat, all teeth and tongue, my body grinding against his thick length.
“Baby, let me?—”
I didn’t let him finish. I sucked his tongue into my mouth, making him curse into my lips, his hands gripping my hips with bruising force.
"Fuck, I need to be inside you."
"Yes, you do."
I reached between us, fumbling with his waistband, desperate to feel him, skin on skin, no more teasing, no more games. But before I could pull him into me, his hands clamped around my thighs, and suddenly, I was weightless.
He lifted me like I was nothing, stepping out of the tub, his muscles tense, strained, shaking with restraint. In two seconds flat, he had me on the bed.
I barely had time to catch my breath before he covered my body with his, his mouth closing over my breast, sucking hard, making me cry out as his teeth scraped against my nipple.
"If I'm going to fuck you hard," he growled against my skin, "I want you on the bed where I won’t hurt you."
A thrill shot down my spine, my breath shaky, needy.
“Then do it,” I dared.
And he did. Without warning, he slid inside me.
Hard.
Deep.
I gasped, my nails digging into his back, my thighs squeezing his hips as he set a punishing rhythm. This wasn’t just fucking.
This was taking. Claiming. Consuming.
"I need you on your stomach." His voice was gravel, dark and commanding. "I want to see your ass when I fuck you."
He didn’t wait for a response. He flipped me over, spreading my thighs with his strong, steady hands, and then he was inside me again, stretching me, filling me completely.
I saw stars.
I felt everything. A sharp smack landed on my ass, sending a wave of pleasure crashing through me.
"You're fucking perfect," he groaned into my hair, his thrusts deeper, faster, rougher.
I was already close again. The tingling started deep, spreading fast, crawling over my skin, my bones, my soul.
"Keep going," I begged, gripping the pillow, the pleasure so intense it nearly stopped my breath.
