he spoke, his breath puffed across the wet skin and she stifled a yelp. “Finish it. Quick.”
He licked a heated path around her areola, then engulfed her distended flesh, compressing it against his tongue and the roof of his mouth, humming while he did so. Her whole body fizzed and sparkled with the luscious vibration. Using the same rhythm, he rasped the nipple of her other breast with his thumb.
“Erik, I—” Gasping, Prue broke off. Gods, had she whimpered? She was having to fight to keep her eyes open against the pleasure.
Barely missing a beat, Erik changed sides, but he raked her flesh gently with his teeth. A sensual reminder. Clumsily, she jammed the spray right against his skull, moving it about until the water ran clear.
“Done,” she panted.
He administered a final deep suckle that made her toes curl. “Thank the gods.” Flipping the spigots off, he pulled her against his chest with one brawny arm and surged to his feet, creating a wave that threatened to swamp the room. In some hidden recess of her once-practical mind, Prue remembered the shocking expense of the fittings, especially the elegant, deep-pile rug, but all she could think now was that when she pulled him down, the silk would be soft against her back as he shoved that thick, heavy cock into her until she screamed. Over and over while she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper and deeper and—
Erik set her on her feet and wrapped a crimson towel around her shoulders. Before she had a chance to take in the whole of his glorious nudity, he’d flung another over her head, spoiling the view. “Dry your hair,” he ordered.
Strong hands patted her shoulders dry, moved the towel down her back.
Swearing, Prue fought her way free. “What about you?”
“You first.” He was behind her now, rubbing the towel over the globes of her bottom in a decidedly sensuous way. She twisted around to glare over her shoulder and lost her breath.
Clothed, Erik Thorensen was a big man, but stripped he was even bigger, the depth of his chest fully revealed, the latent power of the muscle in his trim belly, his solid thighs, obvious to see. He was all hard planes and angles, the density of big bones and resilient male flesh, covered with smooth, tawny skin and dusted with golden hair that glinted in the warm light. Dripping as he was, his hair plastered to his skull, his masculine beauty was brutally apparent. Frowning with concentration, he went to his knees to dry the backs of her thighs, his buttocks flexing, the sides delightfully hollowed with the fluid shift of muscle.
Prue’s fists clenched. Her mouth watered. Clearing her throat, she said, “What about my front?” Despite her best intentions, her voice came out strained and husky.
Erik’s head jerked up and his wet hair brushed the back of her knee. Goose bumps skittering up her spine, Prue turned slowly to face him. His eyes blazed with a hot blue flame, like the secret heart of a furnace. Towel held loosely in his hands, he rose, towering over her. Her blood singing, she raised her chin to meet his gaze. “Then it’s your turn,” she said.
“Godsdammit, woman.” Erik appeared to be breathing hard through his nose. “Do you have a death wish? Do you know how close—?” He broke off.
Deliberately, Prue lowered her gaze. His cock arched up toward his navel, so engorged the satiny skin looked stretched, except for the soft, wrinkled collar beneath the head. Like the rest of his body, his shaft still glistened with bathwater. As she watched, a fat droplet rolled from the smooth, rosy glans to course his length, tracing the path of a throbbing vein, disappearing into a sandy tuft of curls, drawing her eye to where his testicles were drawn up between his thighs, plump and tense.
With a dark bolt of lust that nearly took her to the floor, she realized the liquid wasn’t water at all.
Erik lifted her chin with two fingers. “You want to play games with me, pretty Prue?” Though his jaw was set hard, his eyes danced with wicked delight.
“You took care of me. I should return the favor.” Exhilaration pumped through her blood. No man had ever challenged her the way Erik did—on every level. Letting her tongue creep out to whisk over her lower lip, she raised limpid eyes to his, trying to look innocent, aware she was failing. “You’ll, ah, catch your death.”
Erik