Her arms tighten around my neck. Fingers dig into my shoulders. She pulls herself closer, and the friction of her wet skin sliding against mine makes my cock throb.
I kiss her harder. My tongue sweeps into her mouth, claiming every inch. She tastes like mint and something sweeter underneath. Something that's justher.
Marina gasps when I shift my grip, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her head. I angle her face where I want it. Take what I need.
She gives it willingly.
Her hips roll against me. Searching. The movement drags her pussy across my cock, and we both groan at the contact.
"Dante." My name comes out broken. Pleading.
"I know, cara." I press my forehead to hers. Our breath mingles in the steam. "I know."
My free hand slides between us. I find her entrance, slick and ready. Two fingers push inside, and Marina's head falls back against the tile.
"Fuck."
I work her slowly. Stretching. Preparing. My thumb circles her clit while my fingers curl inside her, finding that spot that makes her thighs shake.
"More," she breathes. "Please."
I withdraw my fingers. Position myself at her entrance.
Our eyes meet.
Water runs down her face like tears. Her chest heaves with each breath. She's beautiful. Terrified. Brave.
Mine.
"Say my name," I demand.
"Dante."
I push inside her.
Marina cries out. Her pussy clenches around me, tight and hot and perfect. I hold still, buried inside her, giving her time to adjust.
My forehead drops to her shoulder.
"Move," she whispers against my ear. "Please move."
I pull back slowly. Push in again. The drag of her pussy around my cock sends sparks up my spine.
"Christ." The word tears out of me.
Marina's nails rake down my back. The sting only makes me harder. I set a rhythm—slow, deep strokes that hit every spot inside her.
The shower fills with sounds. Water hitting tile. Skin slapping against skin. Her moans. My groans. The wet slide of our bodies moving together.
I grip her hip with one hand, controlling the angle. Each thrust drives her higher up the wall. Her breasts bounce with the movement, nipples hard and flushed pink.
"Look at me," I order.
Her eyes flutter open. Pupils blown wide. Lips parted.
I increase the pace. Harder. Faster. The tile groans under the force of our movements.
I shift my grip, freeing one hand to reach between us. My thumb finds her clit and presses down.
