I turned the water on and let it get nice and warm before peeling off my bikini and stepping inside.
I felt my stiff muscles instantly uncoil and relax at the feel of the warm water.
I began to sing—don’t judge me, everybody did it—and didn’t notice when the door to the bathroom opened.
When the shower door jerked open I let out a scream. Ezra stepped inside, his hand falling on my mouth to stifle the sound. “Shh,” he warned, his dark brows drawn together, “you don’t want anyone to hear you.”
The noise coming out of my throat cut off and he dropped his hand.
“What are you doing in here?” I hissed, glaring at him. I refused to let my eyes stray over his body and his hard cock jutting proudly from his body. Nope, I wasn’t looking. Not. At. All.
He grinned. “You’ve been prancing around in that tiny excuse for a bikini teasing me all fucking day. Do you have any idea how difficult this has been to hide?” He pointed to his cock.
I swallowed thickly, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.
“It’s been the best and worst kind of torture imaginable.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. He stalked forward, like a panther cornering its prey. My back hit the tiled shower wall and water poured down around me. He placed his hands on either side of my head and leaned in close. “And now,” he continued, “if I don’t get to touch you, I think I might die.”
“Dramatic much?” I quipped, trying to hide how much my body was reacting to him.
“Just the truth, baby.”
Baby. I’d never liked pet names. I found them degrading and annoying, but hearing that word roll of Ezra’s tongue gave it a whole new meaning.
He continued to hover there, the water pouring down around us, like he was waiting for something.
Finally, he spoke again. “I won’t touch you until you give me permission.”
I stood on my tiptoes, holding onto the wall for added support. My lips grazed his ear and I whispered, “Touch me. All of me.”
Those words seemed to spark a fire inside him, one that burned for me and me alone.
He grasped my hips and lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he pressed me into the wall.
He kissed me deeply, like he was trying to memorize the contours of my lips with his.
My fingers delved into his wet hair, tugging him impossibly closer. Our chests were pressed together fully and all he had to do was pull back and move his hips slightly and he’d be inside me.
Our pants filled the steaming air and I moaned into his mouth.
His hands palmed my ass and he lifted me up slightly, breaking our endless kiss.
“Hold onto my shoulders,” he commanded.
I did as he asked and the moment I did he thrust inside me. We both let out embarrassingly loud moans. He’d fucked me senseless the night before, and yet somehow it felt like it’d been forever since we were joined like this.
He rested his forehead against mine, not moving his hips as we both struggled to compose ourselves.
When he looked into my eyes I hoped he couldn’t see the fear there—the fear that I would never find this with anyone else.
His head moved from my forehead to the crook of my neck and his lips pressed gently against the spot where my pulse raced. Ever so slowly he pulled back slightly and then pushed inside me. He did it again and I thought I might cry. I wanted hard and fast, I didn’t want this. This was too much like making love and things like this weren’t allowed in our arrangement. Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been defined that way, but in my mind it wasn’t allowed. This felt too real.
“Harder,” I begged, clinging to his wet shoulders.
“No,” he growled lowly. He nipped my chin and then took my bottom lip between his teeth before letting it go.
“Please,” I panted, trying a different tactic.
“No.”
I really hated that word.
I tried to take matters into my own hands and began to circle my hips faster.
He grabbed my hips and held hard enough that I couldn’t move them. “I said no.”
“Ezra,” I begged.
“Stop thinking,” he whispered, his lips a breath away from mine, “just feel.”
God, I wanted to. I wanted to let myself go and revel in the way it felt to be held and loved so gently by him, but I was scared. So, undeniably, terrified that I’d end up ripping my heart out of my chest and handing it to him in the process.
“Feel, Sadie,” he said again, kissing me sweetly. “Feel how good we are together.”
Didn’t he know that was the problem? We felt too good together. Not just when we had sex, but at all times. He was my perfect other half.
A tear fell down my cheek, getting lost in the shower water.
I didn’t know how I would ever find the strength to let this go.
I didn’t want to.
But I had to.
I closed my eyes as his lips ghosted down my neck.
He clasped my hands in his and held them above my head. I gasped when he hit something deeper inside of me. “Ezra.” I panted his name over an over again. “Ezra. Ezra. Ezra.”
I was desperate to touch him, but he held my hands prisoner.
He angled his mouth over mine, and his tongue brushed into my mouth.
I was consumed.
Devoured.
Obliterated.
I did not exist.
Somehow I managed to let go of my thoughts and soon I was hurdling over the edge as an orgasm hit me.
I clung to him desperately, my legs shaking, and he let go of my hands to grasp my thighs.
He pushed into me a little harder, but still at an unhurried pace.
In a matter of minutes I was close to another orgasm.
I cried out, and he tried to silence me with a kiss.
“Fuck,” he growled against my throat, nibbling the tender skin there. “Oh, fuck you feel so good. I’m gonna come.”
When his orgasm hit he growled low in his throat and burrowed his head against my neck. His wet hair tickled me, but I was too tired to try to move away.
Still inside me, he murmured, “That was fucking amazing.”
I nodded.
He gently lowered me to the ground and he slipped free of my body.
Before I knew what he was doing he had my shampoo bottle in his hand, and poured some into his open palm.
“Turn around,” he commanded.
I did as he asked.
He lathered the shampoo into his hands and worked it into my hair. He rinsed it out and did the same with the conditioner.
When my hair was clean he reached for the body wash. He worked it into his hands and rubbed my shoulders and my arms, before cupping my breasts.
I leaned against him, absorbing his touch.
His hands roamed over my stomach and my body clenched with desire once more, hoping his hand would venture lower, but he didn’t. Instead he rinsed me off and used my shampoo to wash his own hair. I really hoped no one noticed that we both smelled like strawberries.
He turned the shower off and we stepped out. I wrapped the waiting towel around my body and grabbed another one from underneath the sink for him.
When I stood back up he was right there. I let out a startled squeak and jerked backwards, knocking into the large decorative vase that had some kind of wooden sticks in it. It fell to the floor and shattered with a loud clamor.
I looked at Ezra with panic in my eyes. “Oh, shit.”
He grabbed the towel from me and used it to rub his hair before tying it around his narrow waist. “No one probably heard.” He swept his thumb over my bottom lip, like it pained him to not touch me.
I glanced down at the shattered vase. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“I’m always right.” He chuckled.
He took my face between his large hands and kissed me long and deep, before stepping back. “I never want this to end.”
He said the words so quietly that I didn’t believe I heard him right, and was convinced they were merely a figment of my imagination.
He headed out of the bathroom without a backwards glance and I stood there, hating myself for letting my feelings get the best of me.