I twist my fingers inside him, finding that spot that makes his whole body jolt. He nearly loses his footing on the slick tiles.
“You like this,” I growl against his ear. “You like me takingwhat I want.”
For a moment he just makes these broken sounds that go straight to my gut.
Then he says, “No,” with a shake of his head.
“Liar.”
I yank my fingers out of him, grab him by the hair, and drag him toward the showers. He stumbles, legs unsteady, but doesn’t fight me. I slam him face first against the tiled wall near one of the showerheads.
Water streams down from above, hot and relentless, splashing his shoulders and mixing with the oil on his skin. Steam rises around us, turning the air thick and humid. The spray creates patterns that shift and flow down his back as I dive straight back into him, working him open. His breathing has gone ragged, desperate. Each plunge of my fingers draws fresh sounds from his throat.
The power is intoxicating. Having this untouchable man falling apart under my touch. Seeing him lose that iron control he wears like armor.
I pull my fingers out abruptly. He gasps at the sudden emptiness, body clenching around nothing.
Before I can think, before I can talk myself out of it, my hand moves to my own cock. Hard as stone, aching with need. Fuck, have I ever been this desperate? I steal the remainder of the oil that coats his body to slick it.
I press it up against him.
Pause, just for a moment, so he knows what’s coming.
Pause, to give him time to instead smash my head into the floor.
“What’s wrong, birdie?” he snarls. “Forgotten how to fuck a man?”
That’s all the encouragement I need.
I drive all the way into him in one brutal thrust.
The sound he makes—raw, shocked, edged with pain—sends fire through my veins. His whole body goes rigid against the wall, muscles wrapping around me like a vise.
I can’t fucking breathe. He’s tight. So fucking tight, with his body fighting the invasion even as it yields to my size. The heat of him surrounds me, slick and perfect, his bare skin burning against mine where we’re joined.
For a moment I’m lost in it. The feeling of being fully seated inside him, of having this untouchable bastard split open on my cock. It’s been so long since I was inside another man—half a year, maybe longer. The sensation threatens to undo me completely.
I almost forget what I’m doing. Almost whisper sweet things into his ear, tell him he’s being so good for me, that he feels like heaven, that he’s perfect—
Instead, I leave no time for him to adjust. I give him the exact same amount of mercy he showed me today.
I pull back almost all the way, then slam into him again.
I give him everything I’ve got, channeling weeks of rage and humiliation and want into each vicious thrust. His hands scrabble against the wall, both palms flat against the tiles as he braces himself for the onslaught.
The wet sounds of our bodies bounce around the room. Water still streams down around us, but I barely notice. All my focus narrows to this—the drag of his body against mine, the way he takes everything I give him.
He makes another sound, half moan, half protest.
My hand comes down hard on his thigh with a sharp crack. “I knew you’d be a fucking slut for my cock.”
Another noise escapes him, louder this time. Dangerous in the echoing shower room.
My hand clamps over his mouth, fingers pushing between his lips. “Shut the fuck up. Unless you want them all to come in here and see their captain being a dirty slut.”
His tongue darts out, licking at my fingers as if they’ve been dipped in sugar. The sensation shoots straight to my spine, makes me ram into him harder than before. I hold nothing back now, giving him every ounce of fury I’ve carried since day one of this place, multiplied tenfold by his cruel betrayal.
The tiles are slippery beneath our feet as our bodies collide. Marco’s muffled sounds vibrate against my palm as I drive into him again andagain, lost in the rhythm of taking what I want from this man who’s taken everything from me.
