strong. And it was exhausting to always be the one in charge, to always be making decisions and looking after people.
Right now, all she wanted was for Ronan to take care of her.
They made it to the bathroom, and he wrenched the shower faucet on. While the water warmed, he took her face in his palms and kissed her again. Their breath came hard and fast, mingling with the building steam. Hot water started to fog the shower’s glass door, and the gentle slide of Ronan’s tongue stole the breath right from her lungs.
His fingers slipped between her legs, sliding up the inside of her thigh until the heel of his palm found her center. Her knees almost buckled. Yes, this was exactly what she wanted. Not to think or decide or consider or determine.
Only to feel.
She kissed him back, her hands coming down to the buckle at his waist, and she yanked at the leather strap. The metal clinked, and then she worked on the button. Then the zipper. Denim slipped over his hips as she pushed his jeans down. Water drummed an incessant beat behind her, echoing the hammering of her heart.
Ronan drew his T-shirt up, stepping out of his jeans at the same time so that the only thing remaining was a pair of black underwear. Beneath the stretchy fabric, his erection bulged, and Audrey’s hand brushed tentatively over it. Knowing she turned him on like this, knowing that what she felt was absolutely reciprocated…it made her feel desirable. Wanted.
New.
“Undress me,” she whispered.
Ronan’s eyes never left hers as his hands came to the hem of her top. Gently, he eased the fabric over her head and dropped it to the floor. His eyes were almost black now—black like the edge of a cliff at night.
His hands drifted to the waistband of her jeans, and he hooked a finger underneath the fabric and tugged her closer. “I want you like nothing else, Audrey.”
He popped the button and drew her zipper down, dropping to his knees as he slid the fabric down over her hips and thighs. Her underwear was nothing fancy—that wasn’t something she’d ever spent much money on—but the bubblegum-pink shade made her feel good, and with Ronan, none of that stuff mattered.
He pressed a kiss to the apex of her sex through the thin cotton, and Audrey gasped. “Everything about you is perfect.”
Audrey glanced at herself in the mirror above the sink. Perfect was not a word she’d use to describe herself. Ever. Her stomach stuck out, and her thighs rubbed together when she walked. But with Ronan, she felt something…pure. Something that went far beyond the physical.
He tugged her panties down her legs and helped her step out of the pile of clothing that had gathered there.
“We’re going to run out of water,” she said, a teasing smile on her lips.
“So be it.” Ronan stood and shoved his own underwear down, standing naked before her.
Audrey reached behind herself and unhooked her bra, and the second she was finally naked, he lowered his head to her breast, taking one hardened nipple in his mouth. He rolled it against his tongue, and her hand fisted in his hair, tugging sharply.
“Oh my,” she gasped, but she pulled his head to her other breast. He worshipped her body, leaving pink marks against her skin with his teeth. “Shower. Now.”
He stepped into the shower before her and tested the temperature of the water, adjusting the knobs before pulling her in with him. The steam made everything feel so much more intimate. So much more…everything.
Reaching out, she brushed the tip of him, and his whole body tensed, the muscles in his shoulders bunching up around his neck. Audrey wrapped her fingers around Ronan’s erection, and he grunted as she squeezed him. Feeling how hard he was—how thick—lit a fire inside her.
“What you do to me…” Stepping out of her reach, he lowered himself to his knees in front of her. His facial hair was prickly against her thigh—the opposite of how soft his fingers felt, spreading her legs and finding her damp and ready. A soft sigh came from her lips, and the gentle pressure of her hand against his head told him what she wanted.
“Please.” Her voice trembled as he brushed his lips over her. “I need…”
“Tell me.”
She barely had an ounce of control left—little more than the finest thread—and she wanted to see it shatter into a million pieces. She wanted him to do that to her. To bring