I feel her nod, and hear her breathy "Yes."
The bathroom warms quickly as I flip on the lights, soft and recessed. Steam rises from the rainfall head, and the marble tiles are cool under my feet as we step in, her hand in mine. Under the spray, water hot and pounding, soaks us both. The tension builds fast—my hands on her back, soapy and slick, pulling her close. Her breasts press warm against me, nipples hard points that make me groan low. We lather deliberate, fingers lingering—mine tracing her spine in long, teasing paths, drawing out shivers; hers exploring my chest, slow circles that turn bolder, nails grazing lightly, pulling a hiss from me.
As the suds rinse away, she starts talking, voice breathy, without focus. "Jason and Sarah... They seem happy, don't they? Like they've got it figured out, date nights and all." Her hands pause on my hips, fingers digging in a bit.
"Yeah...” As if I care. My hands slide lower, cupping her ass gently, squeezing just enough to make her gasp again, sharp and needy.
She turns in my arms, her eyes meeting mine, vulnerable and heated, water streaming down her face. “What if it rains?” she says, her forehead against my chest. Her hands are on my hips now, fingers digging in deeper. My hardness pressing against her belly, throbbing with each word, her gasps interrupting as my fingers tease lower, brushing the edge of her soft folds.
The heat builds between us, not rushing, lingering in the moment—her breath quickening as I kiss her neck, nipping gently to draw out a moan, low and trembling. Murmuring ideas: “What?”
“You know, the charity gala. What if it rains?”
“You can always use the ballroom here, as a backup,” I offer.
“But it won’t fit the theme.”
I smile. “It can. You’ll make it work.”
A small moan escapes her lips as my touch turns teasing, fingers circling her clit. Her hips buck, and her gasp turns toa whimper. She clings to me as the water pounds steadily. The stall turns into our world, tense with want, sweet with this new closeness. My free hand cups her breast, thumb rolling her nipple until she arches, moaning my name in broken syllables.
"Blake... Blake… Oh, God."
Her eyes are dark with need as I carry her dripping body through the bathroom and deposit her on my bed. We fall into bed in a tangle, soaking the sheets. I roll over her and hover on top of her on my elbows. Our breaths mingle.
Her eyes lock on mine, wide and laced with heat—a silent question, a plea. "Blake," she whispers, her voice breaking on my name, fingers tracing my jaw with a tremble that betrays her nerves. I feel it too, this strange moment like we're on the edge of something irreversible, my heart slams against my ribs as I lean down and brush my lips over hers in a feather-light kiss.
"God, you're beautiful," I murmur against her neck, feeling her pulse jump under my lips.
“What if I weren’t your wife? What if you just met me tonight?” she asks.
“But you are.” I slide my hand lower, fingers brushing her inner thigh, inching toward her heat.
She bites her bottom lip. “Tonight, can we play a game? Can we pretend we’re strangers who met in a bar and decided to spend the night together? We’re just ships passing in the night.”
I’m rock hard and throbbing against her thigh, the heat between us is building like a storm so I would have agreed to anything. “Yeah, sure,” I mutter. “Do you have a name?”
For a second, she tenses, then she whispers, “Juliet. Tonight, I’m Juliet.”
I stop and stare into her eyes. “And what does Juliet want?”
“Fuck me as if we’ve only got tonight. You’ll never see me after tonight.”
“Got it.” I shift, positioning myself at her entrance. "Tell me if it's too much," I rasp, voice rough with restraint.
She nods, her hands clutching my back now, nails digging in as I push in, feeling her tightness envelop me inch by inch. She gasps, a mix of surprise and pleasure, her walls clenching around me in hesitation before relaxing, pulling me deeper with a wet slide that draws a shared moan—hers high and breathy, mine low and ragged.
"Oh... God," she moans, the sound drawn out, echoing in the quiet room as I bottom out, buried fully, our hips flush, pulsing together.
We stay like that for a moment, frozen in the intensity, her breath coming in short, heated pants against my shoulder, my own growl rumbling low as I start to move. I pull back almost all the way, the drag exquisite and torturous, her whimper protesting the loss before I slam in deep. Each stroke draws out more whimpers. She gasps my name in broken syllables as I put in place a punishing rhythm, the slap of skin on skin mixing with the raw, wet sounds of my cock pummeling her tender pussy.
Sweat slicks between us. Breasts bouncing wildly, her legs are wrapped around my waist, and her heels dig into my back as she meets my merciless thrusts, her hips rolling up boldly to take me harder.
"Fuck... yes," I groan, the heat coiling tight in my gut, my hand slipping between us to circle her clit, feeling her jolt and cry out, as she clenches around me tighter, her body trembling.
Our movements turn into pure fire, her nails raking down my back, leaving trails that sting deliciously.
Her fingers twist in the sheets, knuckles white, as I lean down, capturing a nipple in my mouth, sucking hard as I thrust deeper. Her keening moans are muffled against my shoulder.
