I press my hands flat against his chest, tracing the scattered scars and tattoos that mark his skin like a beautiful map ofviolence. His muscles flex under my palms. Water drips down from his face onto mine, hot and relentless. My fingers trace down the ridges of his stomach before I can stop them.
I hate him. I want him.
And like me, his hands are exploring my body as well. They find my waist first. He presses into me, and we fall backwards against the wall. Cool tiles kiss my back. It contrasts deliciously with the warm water and the burning heat of his hands on my body.
He kisses me again, draining the air from my lungs with a visceral fear that I can taste. A moan climbs out of my throat, and this time, I let it out for him to swallow.
He’s scared…I realize.Was he scared that he almost lost me today?
My heart skids, and I pull him closer as the ability to think slowly dissolves away against the searing heat of his body.
What did Don Leo say on the yacht?You’re making the same mistake you made in the past.
What mistake? What past?
The questions eat at me. A heartbeat later, they disappear as our mouths continue to move against each other. My fingers tangle in his hair, and my body arches closer to him, seeking more points of contact. My nipples tingle from the feel of his body against mine, and I whimper as I finally press my entire body against his.
His touch sets me on fire. I can’t think, I can’t breathe, and my head is spinning so much that I’m dizzy from the way he tastes on my lips.
His cock throbs between us with a powerful wet heat, separated by the thin material of his swimming trunks.
I reach for his hands and for a moment he stiffens like he’s asking me what I’m doing.
I answer by pulling his hand onto my body. He finds my right breast, squeezing it hard enough to push the remaining air out of my lungs. My hand pushes him down, and he gives my nipples a gentle pinch before those long fingers rake their way down my stomach, past the tuft of hair between my legs, until they settle between my thighs.
He breaks the kiss, and our panting breaths mingle under the hot water.
“Bella—”
I roll my hips forward so he can feel how wet I am.
“Please,” I beg.
For a single terrible second, I think he’s going to refuse. I lean forward and give his lower lip a bite, and my hips start grinding faster against his hand. His other hand rises and closes around my left breast, and I bite his collarbone to show him just how much I want this.
Then his fingers move, and my brain goes blank from pleasure.
A finger finds my clit with unerring precision and begins to circle, drawing slow and relentless circles while two fingers move across my slick folds. Pleasure radiates from between my legs. My body shudders, and my eyes roll back into my head.
“Oh…” I breathe.
I keep moving my hips against his hand until finally, a single finger slips inside of me. A moment later, a second one joins. His hand around my left breast moves up until it closes around my neck, just like in all of my fantasies.
Yes! Yes! YES!
I open my legs further to give him better access, and he lifts me by my neck up the wall until I’m on the tip of my toes.
My head falls back against the tile and he kisses me again, deep and hard. His fingers work between my legs and I feel like I’m drowning all over again.
But this time, I don’t mind.
This time, I want to go under.
His fingers never stop moving as he drags and draws my pleasure out, wringing every last drop of sensation from my shaking body.
The orgasm builds like a wave—slow at first, then faster and faster until it nears that crest for just a moment, like a rollercoaster at the point right before the drop.
Lust and doubt and fear and pleasure mix together in a single second that seems to stretch forever before the inevitable point of no return.
