He positioned his cock at her pussy and thrust forward. The force sent her into the wall, her hands flying up to brace herself.
He gripped her waist and held her tight as his hips slapped against her ass.
Pleasure rippled through her groin. Her pussy fluttered in response and gripped his cock as he went deeper. Water rained fast and furious. It felt hotter than before, and steam rose as their breathing sped up.
It was an ambush plain and simple. A quick, hard fuck and she loved every second of it. It was raw, primitive, a man reaching out to his woman, his possession. It was a reminder that she had no power except what he gave her. He took, she gave, and she gloried in her offering.
Trapped between the hard wall and his equally hard body, she took the punishing drive of his pelvis.
“I want your ass, Angel,” he growled in her ear. “I’m tempted to see if you can take me right now, right here, just like this.”
A shudder rolled down her body, and she closed her eyes as she balanced precariously on the edge of orgasm.
His movements gentled. He bit into her shoulder, a hard bite, and then he licked the spot before nipping again. Then he sucked hard, his intent to mark her, a visible reminder of his presence. As if she could ever forget.
He stroked in and out. She writhed helplessly against him, wanting more, wanting it harder, just a little push over the edge.
“Tell me what you want,” he ordered against her ear.
He nipped at her earlobe then sucked it between his teeth.
“Tell me, Angel. You don’t come until you tell me.”
“Fuck me,” she gasped. “Make it hurt. Hard, Micah. Please.”
He slammed into her, driving her mercilessly into the wall. Her cheek banged against the slick surface heated by the water.
One more. Just once more.
He withdrew, reached down and spread her buttocks, pushing upward so that she was open and vulnerable. Then he ripped into her again and she fell over. Down, hard. Pleasure, mindless, numbing pleasure rolled over and over, expanding until she quivered, held tight between the world of pain and endless, sweet sensation.
He pulled out, and she registered that he hadn’t come yet. She tried to drop to her knees, anticipating that he’d want to come in her mouth, but he caught her, holding her up.
“Easy, Angel girl,” he murmured.
When he was sure she could stand, he reached for the soap and a washcloth. To her surprise, he gently soaped her body, taking extra care around her pussy that still pulsed from her orgasm. Each touch was agony and he didn’t linger.
He followed the path of the washcloth with his mouth, his lips and tongue heating a path much hotter than the water. He kissed her skin so tenderly that her heart ached. How could he say he didn’t care, that he didn’t want to care when his every action contradicted his words?
Even when he tried to punish her, when he pushed, expecting her to balk, there was such torment in his eyes that she knew it wasn’t what he wanted to do but what he thought he should do.
And now his every touch, his every kiss, was an apology.
She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the tender care he lavished on her body.
When finally he was done, he reached up to turn the water off. She swayed as he let her go, and he put a hand on her arm to steady her.
“Wait here while I get a towel,” he said.
A moment later he returned and extended his hand to help her from the shower. As soon as she stepped out, he enfolded her in the large towel.
She went willingly into his arms and buried her head against his chest as he rubbed at her skin.
He slid a finger underneath her chin and gently tilted her head up until she looked at him. Their gazes connected, and she saw so much in his eyes that she knew he wasn’t aware of. He tried to keep himself closed off, but what she saw now took her breath away. It gave her hope. It made her believe.
His mouth lowered to hers in the most tender of kisses. Their lips made soft sounds as they moved together. Warm, so sweet. No one had ever kissed her like this. There was so much emotion, so much feeling. Did he feel it too? Would he retreat?