“Graham.” Her voice softened. “What happened here?”
Her fingers traced the ragged scar on my side, then the longer one across my back.
“Patagonia,” I said quietly. “Glacier traverse. Ice gave way. Fell about forty feet into a crevasse. Hit a ledge on the way down, cracked three ribs and the ice tore me open.” I kept my voice even. “Dex anchored a rope, rappelled down, and hauled me out while I was going in and out of consciousness. Took him three hours.”
“Three hours,” she repeated.
“Sat with me in a Chilean hospital for two weeks after.”
“Is that why you trust him the way you do?”
“That’s why I trust him with everything.”
Rose pressed her lips to the worst of the scars. The same way I’d kissed hers last night.You survived this. I see it.
Then she turned me around slowly, water streaming over us both, and dropped to her knees.
My breath punched out.
“Rose—”
“Shh.” She looked up at me through wet lashes, eyes dark and sure. “Let me take care of you.”
She wrapped her hand around my cock, already rock-hard again, and stroked once, twice, slow and firm, thumb swiping over the head to spread the bead of pre-cum. Then she leaned in and took me into her mouth in one smooth, deep glide.
“Fuuuck,” I hissed, head dropping back against the tile. “Jesus Christ, Rose?—”
She didn’t tease. She sucked hard, tongue pressing flat along the underside, cheeks hollowing as she bobbed, taking me deeperwith every pass. My hand fisted in her wet hair, not pulling, just holding on, while the other braced against the wall so I didn’t collapse.
“Your mouth, fuck, that’s so good?—”
She hummed around me, the vibration ripping a curse straight from my lungs. Water poured over her face, down her neck, over her breasts, and the sight of her, lips stretched wide around my cock, eyes locked on mine with fierce, quiet hunger, sent heat roaring through every nerve.
She pulled back just enough to swirl her tongue around the head, sucking hard on the sensitive ridge, then plunged down again, faster, wet and sloppy and relentless. She moaned like she was the one getting off on this.
“Rose, gonna come if you keep— fuck?—”
She didn’t stop. She took me deeper, throat working, one hand cupping my balls and rolling them gently while the other stroked what her mouth couldn’t reach. My hips jerked, shallow thrusts she welcomed, eyes watering but never breaking contact.
“Christ, I’m?—”
She pulled off with a wet pop, lips red and swollen, breathing hard. “Not yet.”
She stood, kissed me filthy, the salt of myself on her tongue, and then pulled back with a look that was equal parts desire and practicality.
“Condom,” she said.
We both looked at the nightstand through the open bathroom door. Ten feet away. Might as well have been ten miles.
“Don’t move,” I said, and made the most undignified wet sprint of my life, naked, dripping, fully erect, to the bedroom and back. Rose was laughing when I returned, steam billowing around her, one hand over her mouth.
“Very sexy,” she managed.
“I’ll accept the mockery.” I tore the packet open, rolled it on with hands that were not remotely steady. “Now where were we?”
“I believe you were about to fuck me against this wall.”
I lifted her, her back against the tile, one leg hooking my hip, and thrust inside her in one long, deep stroke. We both groaned.
