The hallway light catches the faint sheen of sweat clinging to her collarbone, and something instinctive stirs low in my stomach.
I'm getting hard just thinking about her inside that shower.
She steps into the bathroom but leaves the door open. I hear the glass door slide and the water turn on—loud at first, then settling into a steady, thrumming beat.
Steam rises fast and thick, curling into the hallway like fingers inviting me. My pulse jumps in my throat. I tell myself to stay at the table. I can be good, patient, civilized…keep whatever this is locked away.
Sure I can…
Shit…Who am I kidding?
I nearly trip over my own feet walking down the hallway.
Keira's standing directly under the shower, head tipped back, eyes closed, lips parted just enough that I can see the faint catch of her breath each time water runs over her mouth. Droplets race down the long column of her throat, over the gentle slope beneath, then split across the full curve of her breasts, catching on her perky nipples before continuing over the soft plane of her stomach.
She's magnificent.
I don't take my eyes off her as I peel off my clothes, stepping in slowly behind her, closing the distance between us. She lets out a shaky breath, her shoulders dropping like she's finally allowing herself to let go.
My hands find her hips, thumbs brushing over delicate skin. Her body is impossibly smooth under the streaming water. Keira leans back, pressing her spine to my chest, resting her head against my shoulder like it was always meant to fit there.
I feel every inch of her…the softness of her ass nestled against my growing erection, the slight tremor in her thighs as she widens her stance.
She reaches back, fingers threading into my hair. I lean down, kissing the side of her neck while my hands roam over her body. She shivers hard as my teeth graze her skin, hips rolling in a slow grind that pulls a groan from me before I can stop it.
My hand slides up her body, cupping her breast as my thumb pinchesher nipple. My other hand drifts lower to her inner thighs, teasing without rushing, feeling the way her muscles jump and tense under my palm. She's already trembling.
I want to make her shake so hard she has no choice but to beg me to stop.
We'll get to that…just not right now.
Right now I want to drink her in completely. Explore every inch of her and every sound that falls from her lips.
When my fingers finally slip between her thighs, she breaks.
A shattered gasp escapes her. She's swollen, drenched, so sensitive that the lightest graze sends her hips jerking against my hand. I push two fingers inside, and she clamps down around me instantly, head dropping forward, wet hair curtaining her face.
I want to memorize every detail. The water pounding against us. The obscene sound of my fingers sliding through her slick heat. The helpless whimper she makes when I curl just right and her knees threaten to give out.
She turns her head just enough and our mouths meet. It's open, messy, and completely desperate. Her hand abandons my hair, reaches back between us, and wraps around my cock. The first stroke drags a rough sound from somewhere deep in my chest.
I thrust into her grip, pinning her harder against the tile, my fingers never stopping their rhythm inside her.
This isn't old anger finding a new outlet.
This is pure, pent-up want finally given permission to exist.
When she comes, it's sudden and frenzied.
A choked cry ricochets off the tile. Her thighs clamp around my wrist, inner walls gripping me so hard I feel every pulse like it's my own heartbeat. I follow a breath later, spilling over her fingers with a groan I bury in the curve of her neck.
The water keeps falling.
Washing everything away except the trembling heat of her body against mine.
We stand there for a long moment—foreheads pressed together, breathing ragged—letting the spray pound our skin like it can rinse awaywhat we just did.
It never can.
