eyes flickering open. Water pours into them, forcing them shut again.
This is ridiculous. He’s going to drown me.
“Let’s get out,” I whisper through his kisses, blubbering like a fish half the time.
In response, he reaches past me and turns down the faucet. Not all the way—water still patters over my face—but it’s more a gentle drizzle than a cloud break now.
His mouth is on mine before I can blink the water out of my eyes.
Lips so warm.
Slippery.
Demanding.
Holy hell, how can anything feel this good?
I lose myself to him. My lips open on cue when his tongue slides over them, allowing him deeper inside. He moans against my lips, and my core tightens painfully at that urgent sound.
His hands coast down the front of my body. He squeezes my breasts, and rolls my nipples between his thumbs and index fingers hard enough to make me flinch.
Then he slides his fingers down my tummy. His kiss slows, and with it, his movements.
He presses harder against me, until I start aching deep, deep inside. His hands converge above my pubic bone, resting there for an eternity as he draws every ounce of resistance from me with a hard, languid kiss.
My arms had been dangling at my side. When I reach up to touch him, he grabs one of my wrists and instead urges my hand behind my back, between us, close to his cock.
Then the other hand.
I claw into his thighs. Does he want me to touch him? How do I—?
He grabs my wrist again, slides his hand over the back of mine, and meshes our fingers together. Then he drags my hand up his thigh, over his trunks, and up his stomach.
The fingers of his other hand are still just above my aching center. But when he urges my hand down his stomach and behind his underwear, those fingers sink down too.
I touch his cock the same moment he touches my clit.
I convulse, shuddering uncontrollably as a whiplash of heat and electricity surges through me. I break away from his kiss, my head digging into his shoulder as I arch away from his body.
But he refuses to let me go. He starts massaging my clit—hard and achingly slow—as he curls my fingers around his cock.
He rains kisses against the shell of my ear, using his teeth to toy with my earlobe as he starts pumping his cock with my hand, his fingers wrapped tight around mine.
“Fuck,” I whisper, arching again as his fingers press even harder against my clit.
What the hell am I doing? I barely know this guy, and here we are, probably seconds away from fucking? I didn’t think my first time would be in a shower. But, God, this feels so fucking right.
He moves my hand up and down his smooth, hard cock, speeding up as his fingers start strumming my clit faster than before.
My mouth falls open, but then I choke on a spray of water. He abandons my clit just long enough to turn off the water, and then dives back between my legs. But this time his hand sinks down lower than before. His fingertips sink between my lips, and he strokes all four fingers over my entrance.
I shudder hard, a broken gasp spilling out of my open mouth.
He groans, low and deep, and then I don’t feel his underwear brushing against my hand anywhere.
Shit.
This is happening.
Fuck!
I’m terrified, but ecstatic at the same time. If just this feels so fucking good, I can’t imagine—
His lips touch mine, demanding another kiss. I turn my head, and he devours my lips and tongue as if he owned them the second he saw me.
My eyes flicker on the cusp of opening as he applies a hard pressure on my clit and starts rubbing his palm against that nub of nerves.
“Fuck.” I moan hard against his mouth, and move his cock down with my hand. I’m still jerking him off, but now his crown can’t be more than a few inches from my entrance. I’m too short though. I have no idea how this would even work if I wanted—
“We’d need a stool for that, peaches,” he says.
My heart plummets into my stomach when my eyes fly open and I see Cass’s face an inch from mine.
I open my mouth for a scream, but he’s too fast. In a second, he’s flipped me around and pinned me to the tiled wall, one hand over my mouth the other on my throat.
My teeth can’t reach him because he keeps his hand