She was so tight. So wet. So fucking perfect.
“Weston,” she moaned, her head thumping back against the tile.
I gave her a second to adjust, my forehead dropping to her chest as water streamed over us.
Then I started to move.
Slow at first. Deep, rolling thrusts that had her nails digging into my good shoulder and her breath hand fisting in my hair.
I tried to keep it slow. I really did, but she was so slick, so perfect, so mine that I lost my fucking mind.
“Harder,” she begged, digging her feet into my ass, trying to ride me like a bucking bronco. “Please, honey.”
Digging my fingers into her ass, I lifted her almost completely off my cock then slammed her back down. Thefeeling of her hot pussy wrapped around me like a glove was short-circuiting my brain.
I knew I had to be hurting her but I couldn’t stop, and judging by the sounds she was making, she didn’t mind me fucking her hard and fast.
“Oh, god,” she keened. “I’m close.”
“Touch your clit,” I demanded.
Her hand snaked between us, and she moaned.
“Give it to me, baby. Let go.”
I ground my hips against her just right and she shattered, her whole body clamping down around me like a vise. Her cry broke against my throat, and that was all it took. I buried myself deep and followed her over the edge, groaning her name into her wet hair as I emptied everything I had inside her.
We stayed like that, plastered to the shower wall, both of us shaking and gasping, the water beating down on my back.
“Holy crap,” she panted. “You fucked me within an inch of my life. I think I died for a second there.”
I huffed a laugh against her neck. “They don’t call it the little death for nothin’.”
I pulled back enough to look at her. Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, blue eyes glassy. “Beautiful.”
She smiled tiredly as her eyes went to my shoulder, then that beautiful smile fell. “You need to put me down. Papaw said you were supposed to keep that dry.”
I glanced at my shoulder. The stitches were still intact. “It’s fine,” I said, setting her carefully on her feet.
And it was.
“Let’s get cleaned up before the water gets cold.”
She nodded, and we finished our shower for real this time—me washing her hair with the shampoo I had, which made her smell like me, and I wasn’t even a little bit sorry about it.
When the water finally started running cool, I shut it off and grabbed a towel off the rack, wrapping her up in it. I dried her off slowly, taking my time with every inch of her, then gave myself a quick once-over before tossing the towel over the bar.
Then I scooped her up bridal style and she squeaked, grabbing onto my neck. “Weston Basham, your shoulder!”
“Woman, if you mention my shoulder one more time, I’m gonna spank your ass.”
Her lips twitched. “Promises, promises.”
God, I loved her.
I carried her into my bedroom and laid her down in my bed—the king-size bed I’d bought way too big for one man, in the house I’d bought for a woman who wasn’t there.
Except now she was. Now she was in my bed, in our house, her damp hair spread across my pillow.
