My head tipped back against his shoulder as his hand trailed up my chest. A low moan slipped out as his hands cupped my breasts. His fingers pinched my nipples hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure straightthrough me.
Fontaine kissed along my shoulder and nipped at my neck. “Answer me, Nai.”
I couldn’t think straight. Not with his touch waking up a part of me that I’d spent the past eight weeks trying to bury. Whatever composure I’d managed to hold onto was already slipping.
He turned me to face him, and my eyes dropped to the gash on his arm.
“It’s not even that bad,” I said softly. “It’s a stupid flesh wound.”
“Word?”
He growled and walked me back until he had me up against the wet tile. He lifted me up and I barely had time to catch my breath as the head of his dick teased my entrance before he thrust into me in one smooth motion.
“Fuck,” he grunted, tightening his grip on my hips.
His strokes were fast and unforgiving. Each one dragging memories through my body. This was what we used to be and what still lived between us, no matter how far I’d run.
“Why would you keep this from me, Nairobi?” he demanded, voice cold as steel. That softness he used to hold with me was gone. NoKitten. Just Nairobi.
The weight of that hit harder than it should’ve.
A strangled moan was all that came out as he slammed into me harder. My fingers struggled to get a hold around his wet skin as pressure built low in my belly.
My back arched, my hips rolling to meet his rhythm. I needed to show him I could take everything he was giving me. He cursed under his breath and he pulled out suddenly, sitting on the shower bench and dragged me into his lap.
“C’mere,” he muttered.
We both moaned as I sank onto him, my pussy stretchingaround him as the steam curled around us like smoke. I pressed my forehead to his and braced my hands on his shoulders.
“Bear…” I whispered, voice cracking.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he took my nipple into his mouth and teased it with his tongue before he bit down just enough to make me gasp. My nails dug in his arms, clinging to him as the sensation lit every nerve in my body on fire.
I reached for his face—needing to kiss him, wanting that final piece of connection. But when I tried to pull his mouth to mine, he turned away.
The sting behind my eyes surprised me, but my body didn’t stop responding. His hand slid between us, fingers pinching and rubbing my clit enough to send me over the edge.
I came hard, screaming his name as my orgasm crashed over me. My thighs trembled as I pulsed around him.
“Fuck!” Fontaine shouted, thrusting deep one last time as he spilled inside me.
His head fell back against the wall, chest heaving, arms locked around my waist as we rode the aftershocks together in silence.
“How long have you known I was here?” I asked quietly.
We’d cleaned up in the shower, moving around each other in a comfortable familiarity. Now we were in bed, my head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart while he draped an arm around me.
“Since the week after you left,” Fontaine said.
I scoffed softly. “I’m surprised it took you this long to show up.”
“I wasn’t going to come,” he admitted. “Probably shouldn’t have… but I can’t stay away from you.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I kept quiet.
“Why didn’t you say goodbye?” he asked after a moment.
“Because I’m a coward,” I answered truthfully. “If I had, I would’ve gone back to Atlanta. And you wouldn’t have let me go.”
