He found her clit and pressed in tight circles. Her hips lifted toward the pressure, and her hands flexed against the wall. As she climbed toward orgasm, he disappeared, leaving cold space where he’d been.
She turned her head and watched him climb out of the shower. He came back with a condom wrapper and quickly slid it on. “Spread your feet.”
She moved her feet apart. He gripped her hip and angled himself behind her. She felt the tip of his cock at her pulsing, wet entrance. She whimpered when he pushed in the tip. His hands tightened around her hips as he pressed deeper.
He sank into her inch by inch, stretching her around his girth. She gasped against the tile and the water ran down her back and over her ass as he seated inside her.
“Stella. God, you feel good.”
“Yeah,” she moaned. “You feel so good inside me.”
He growled and started to move in long deliberate strokes, then pulled almost all the way out of her and thrust back in. The drag of his thick cock over her g-spot sent heat up her spine. His arm around her waist was the only thing keeping her upright.
His mouth was at the side of her throat, breath hot against her wet skin, chest pressed against her back. He found a rhythm and stayed with it. Each stroke sent a shockwave up her spine. He cupped her breast, his fingers rolling her nipple in time with his hips. She tilted her ass back to meet him.
“Fuck, yes,” she moaned, her orgasm building.
The slap of his hips against her ass was loud in the small space. His hand on her breast tightened, and he buried himself deeper on each stroke. He slid his hand down to her clit and worked her in tight circles that matched the rhythm of his hips. Her forehead pressed against the tile, and her legs nearly went out from under her.
“You feel so good, baby,” she groaned. “Fuck!”
She came hard. Her body clamped down on him in long pulses and the bond went incandescent in her chest. Her bear made a sound she could feel through her teeth. He didn’t slow down. He fucked her through it, his rhythm steady and brutal and exactly what she needed. When her pulses had barely tapered, he buried himself in her to the hilt and came.
His arm cinched tight around her ribs, and his hand on her clit went still. They stood there breathing as the water ran over them, his forehead pressed against her shoulder. After a minute he pulled out of her slowly, and she made a small sound at the absence. He turned her to face him and kissed her on the mouth.
She turned the water off, stepped out onto the bathmat, and he followed. She pulled a towel off the rack and dried off. Her hair, her shoulders, her chest. She pulled on her underwear and comfy pajamas, the cotton warm against her clean skin.
She walked into the bedroom and climbed into bed. He pulled on a pair of fresh boxers and climbed in beside her, gathering her in his arms. She slid her hand across his chest and laid her head on his shoulder. The bond hummed steady between them.
“We’re going to find her,” he said.
She closed her eyes, and he kissed the top of her head. He reached over and clicked the lamp off and the room went dark.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Blaze drovethe few blocks to the second event. Stella sat in the passenger seat of the Ram with her face arranged into Mia Carver’s. The blunt platinum wig sat smoothly against her cheekbones. The red bandage dress she was wearing was doing crazy things to his insides. Ryder was in the back with the corner bag at his feet.
The bruise on Blaze’s ribs had turned mottled green and yellow at the edges and was still purple in the middle. He moved a half second slower turning his head left than right. That was the leopard’s gift, and it would be with him in the pit.
The venue came into sight at the end of the block. He pulled into the lot and parked at the back. Their covers held at the door. Inside, the crowd was thicker than the previous event, and the bar was already two deep. Blaze swept his eyes across the room.
A floor manager in a black polo crossed to them. He said Russo and pointed at the fighters’ holding room in the back. Blaze squeezed Stella’s wrist, and she nodded. She drifted off toward the bar. Ryder came up beside him with the bag, and they walked to the holding room.
On the back bench against the wall sat a new fighter who Blaze determined was a polar bear. Six four, two-fifty if he was a pound, hair shaved close, jaw broken and reset more than once. He worked slowly on his own tape and didn’t look up.
Blaze set his duffel down and started on his wraps. Pierce stepped into the holding room as the first bout started and walked straight to Blaze.
“Mister Russo.”
“Yeah.”
“Tonight I’d like to see what you’re really made of. You’re up against my champion. He hasn’t lost in three years.”
“Then it’s been a while since he had a real fight.”
The corner of Pierce’s mouth twitched. “We’ll see.”
