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His licks are hungry, ravenous, each one deeper and wetter than the last.
There’s no apology, no hesitation—just raw, desperate need. Brian is relentless, like a man possessed, tearing the orgasm from me as if it belongs to him. And hell, it does.
It’s so good, so ridiculously good, that I’m borderline addicted, craving more by the second.
I’ve wanted this—wantedhim—for so long. And for the record, he was worth every second of the wait.
I’ve imagined it a thousand ways, but nothing could prepare me for the moment his fingers slide inside. I’m already widening my legs, the desperate plea tumbling from my lips like a prayer. “Please.”
I’m riding his hand like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth. The pressure builds and builds until there’s no choice. I crash headfirst into a brick wall of an orgasm as my entire body shudders from the impact.
A guttural hum vibrates from his chest to his lips. “Mmm.”
Before I can even catch my breath, he’s stripping off his clothes, his mouth claiming mine, my taste still on hislips.
The world tips as I’m lifted up, the rush of hot water cascading along my back.
That’s when it hits me. “Your leg—shouldn’t we?—”
“It’s fine,” he growls, cutting off any protests as his teeth graze my lower lip. He tugs gently, just enough to silence me.
My hands roam across his chest, fingertips tracing every ridge, every groove of his sculpted muscles. He pauses, letting my eyes linger, drinking him in like he’s a masterpiece carved by the gods.
For the first time, I see him—all of him. The water glistens over his skin, exposing every scar and imperfection etched into him like constellations on a canvas, and I drink him in.
There are the parts of him I’ve loved without seeing—these parts—all of him. This man I will love until the day I die.
The moment my eyes lock on to his mouth—those full lips framed by rough stubble—I’m spun around, my back slamming against the cool tile.
Water pours over us as his kiss turns deeper, more demanding, like he’s starved for it. His heart pounds against mine, his tongue teasing, taunting, until we’re both breathless and panting and gasping for air.
“I’ve wanted you for so damn long,” he murmurs, lips grazing the curve of my wet shoulder, the feel of his stubble sending a tingle to my toes.
He locks me in his arms, my legs wrapped around his waist, his hands cradling my ass as the thick head begins to press at my entrance.
His entire body trembles with barely contained restraint. “If we do this, there’s no going back, Jules. You’re either mine, or you’re not.”
“I’m yours.”
In one desperate, searing thrust, he shoves in. And he’s so big, so perfectly thick, that I swear I see stars.
There’s too much of him for me to take at once, and he has to work for it, stretching me inch by delicious inch.
Deep.
So. Damn. Deep.
Every breath is for him. Every thrust is pure possession.
I’ve never felt anything like this in my life. He’s everywhere, filling me up until I’m drowning in him—mind, body, and soul. It’s too much and not enough all at once.
Like having him this way will never be enough. I crave more. And the more he gives—faster and harder—the more I need.
And damn, is he giving it to me. A lifetime of pent-up desire, unleashed all at once.
A few more impatient, punishing thrusts, and my world shatters into shards of color and light and breaths and moans.
And him.
