Page 65 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

They moved together to the bathroom without hurry, undressing slowly as if there was nowhere else they needed to be right now except here. Tyler turned the water on first, adjusting the temperature until steam began to curl at the edges of the mirror. While the room warmed, he came up behind her and gathered her close, arms crossing over her chest, the weight of him solid and steady.

He kissed the slope of her neck, open-mouthed and unhurried, and Robyn leaned back into him with a quiet exhale that felt like surrender in the best way.

When the water was ready, he guided her under the spray. It was almost too hot at first, then perfect—cascading over her shoulders, sliding down her spine, turning her thoughts into something slower and softer.

Tyler stepped in behind her, letting the stream hit his back so it sheeted forward over both of them. He reached for the body wash, poured it into his palm, and worked it between his hands until it foamed.

“Let me,” he said quietly.

And Robyn let him.

He started at her shoulders, thumbs circling in long, languid strokes that loosened the last of the morning tension from her muscles. Down her arms. Across her collarbones. Over her skin with a kind of attention that felt devotional.

Robyn closed her eyes and simply breathed, letting the warmth and the water and his hands remind her that her body was still hers, that pleasure could still be safe, that she didn’t have to brace for impact every time someone got close.

Robyn turned in his arms, facing him fully now. Water ran down his jaw, caught in his lashes. His gaze held hers like he had time.

The shower and the steam and the quiet house faded into the background and there was only the two of them, pressed together, moving in that slow, inevitable way that felt like a promise.

“Still okay?” he asked, voice low.

Robyn nodded, fingertips sliding up his chest. “More than okay.”

His hands tightened at her waist, his mouth finding hers again, and when she finally made a small, needy sound against his lips, Tyler smiled like it undid him.

Their tongues slid together in a rhythm that matched the steady fall of water. Robyn’s hands mapped his chest, his shoulders, the strong line of his back, learning him by feel as though she hadn’t already memorized every inch.

Tyler lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist, but he didn’t enter her yet.

Instead he pressed her back gently against the warm tile, holding her there while he kissed down her throat, across her chest, taking one nipple into his mouth with exquisite care.

Robyn tilted her head back, eyes fluttering closed as Tyler’s mouth closed over her nipple with the softest reverence. The gentle suction pulled a slow, liquid heat through her chest; then came the warm swirl of his tongue, tracing lazy circles. The sensation arrowed straight down her body, sharp and sweet, drawing an involuntary arch from her spine and a quiet, trembling sigh of his name into the steam.

She felt him shift then, his body aligning with hers beneath the steady cascade of water. The blunt heat of him pressed against her entrance, and he paused. Through the veil of mist, their eyes met—his dark and steady, asking. Her heart gave a heavy, eager thud. She answered with the smallest nod, barely a movement, but enough.

He entered her with exquisite slowness. Inch by measured inch he filled her, letting her feel the thick glide of him, stretching and claiming her until their hips met. The sensation was overwhelming—complete, intimate. They exhaled together, a long, shared tremor of sound lost beneath the water.

He rocked—deep, languid rolls of his hips that dragged the length of him against every sensitive place inside her. Each slow movement sent warm ripples of pleasure spreading outward from her core, building. One of his hands cradled the back of her head, fingers threading protectively through her wet hair; the other slipped between their pressed bodies. His fingertips found her clit with the same patient tenderness, stroking in soft, matching circles.

Her arms tightened around his neck, fingers curling into the damp strands at his nape as though she needed to anchor herself to him. Her breath came in soft, uneven gasps against his mouth. The pleasure gathered like a slow-rising tide, deep and steady, swelling with every gentle rock, every careful caress, until it crested without warning.

She came apart with a quiet, shuddering cry, her body clenching around him in long, luxurious pulses that seemed to go on and on. Waves of warmth rolled through her limbs, leaving her trembling, weightless, utterly boneless in his hold. Tyler never faltered; he rocked her through every aftershock, drawing the sensation out until she felt like liquid light held together only by his arms.

Only then did she feel him give in. His hips pressed deep one final time, and he spilled inside her with a low groan that vibrated against her neck.

They remained locked together under the water, hearts pounding in the same wild, perfect rhythm. His lips brushed her temple in a feather-light kiss, then her cheek, then the corner of her mouth—each one lingering, soft.

When he finally eased out of her and lowered her feet to the tile, her legs trembled beneath her. His hands settled immediately at her waist, warm and sure.

“We don’t have to move yet,” he whispered, voice rough.

Robyn laughed softly—the sound swallowed as she kissed him again, slow and lingering, tasting water and him and the sweet afterglow still shimmering under her skin.

“I don’t know,” she murmured against his mouth. “We might have to try this outside of the bathroom sometime soon.”

Tyler’s hands tightened at her waist. “Is that so?” His voice was low, lazy, full of promise. “Luckily for you, I have a lot of ideas.”

THIRTY