His hands gripped my hips as the water poured over us, and the way he held me made something inside me twist. I felt the tension running through him, but it was ready to break.
He slid inside me, and a sound I couldn’t suppress echoed around us. “Yes, Nadia, let go for me.”
I echoed his praise with his name. “Cristian, yes, please.”
My whole body reacted to the way he moved. My hands clung to his back as he supported all of me against the tile. I felt the heat of him everywhere, steady and consuming. My back pressed to the wall as he held me firm, as if letting go was not an option.
My muscles clenched and released in perfect time with his thrusts as he took me against the cool tile of the shower wall. The water droplets danced across my skin, making me shiver and arch my back to press closer to him. “Tell me how it feels,” he murmured against my neck, his teeth scraping lightly, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.
“It feels like home,” I gasped out, my fingers digging into his wet biceps as he pushed deeper. The water intensified the sensation, turning everything into a symphony of heat and wetness and skin on skin. His mouth found my earlobe, suckinggently as he continued to move inside me, setting off a chain reaction of sparks along every nerve.
I gripped his shoulders, unable to contain the wave of pleasure building inside me. “More,” I pleaded, “Please.”
A sound left him, strained and real. His mouth moved down my neck. The moment his lips touched my skin, my entire body tightened around him. The tension inside me grew so fast I could hardly keep it in.
His teeth grazed my neck. I froze, not from fear, but from the shock of wanting him to keep going. He paused, waiting for any sign from me.
“Cristian,” I whispered. “Please.”
He gave in. His fangs sank into my skin with controlled pressure. A sharp, warm pull radiated through me. My head fell back against the tile as a tremor rolled through my body. I held him tighter, pulling him closer without thinking.
He let out a low, strained sound against my neck. His grip tightened on my hips as if the taste of me shook him as much as the bite shook me. The bond between us surged, strong and undeniable. I felt it in my chest, my stomach, everywhere.
“More,” I whispered. “Please.”
He pulled back, breathing hard, his mouth still close to my skin. His control strained so tight I could feel it in the way he held me. “You undo me,” he said. “I cannot explain it.”
Warm water ran over us, calming nothing. His lips brushed the mark on my neck with a softness that made my knees shake, even though he carried all my weight.
It was all too much, and yet not enough—I wanted this feeling to never end.
“You’re going to make me lose control,” he groaned into my ear, his hips moving wildly now as if he couldn’t help himself anymore.
“Do it,” I whispered back, grabbing onto him tighter as the pressure built up inside me. With one final thrust that made me see stars, I cried out his name and fell apart beneath him. He followed seconds later with a low roar that seemed to shake the entire bathroom.
As we both tried to catch our breaths, he held me close, his chest heaving against my breasts. The water calmed us both, washing away the evidence of our passion and leaving us sated and utterly connected.
He reached for the soap without asking, like he had done this a thousand times in his mind. He worked gently, slow strokes along my arms, my collarbones, the curve of my shoulders. There was no rush in him. Only a calm focus that made my chest tighten.
“You are all right,” he said softly.
“I know,” I whispered. “Because of you.”
He rinsed my hair with careful fingers, keeping the water out of my face, his thumb brushing my temple in a steady, soothing pass.
I leaned into him. He caught me without question and guided my head against his chest.
“You did so well,” he murmured against my hair. “Tell me if anything hurts.”
“Nothing hurts,” I said. “I feel steady.”
He let out a sound that was almost relief, then pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering, like he needed to confirm I was with him.
His hands moved down my spine, washing with soft pressure. He held my hips when I swayed, grounding me with a strength that never felt heavy.
“You are warm,” he said softly. “I am glad.”
“I love how you take care of me. You don’t have to, but you do.”
