“Don’t stop.” My hands braced against the tile wall as his fingers worked inside me. “Please don’t stop.”
“Good girl.” The praise sent heat flooding through me. It made me clench around his fingers and want to be good for him, to please him, to earn more of those words. “I love how responsive you are. How your pussy clenches around my fingers even though I fucked you raw last night.”
His dirty words combined with his touch were driving me crazy. I was already close, my body still primed from last night, still desperate for him.
“Crew,” I gasped. “I need—”
“I know what you need.” He withdrew his fingers, and then his hands were on my hips, positioning me. Angling me exactly how he wanted me, bending me forward, spreading me open. “Hands on the wall, baby. Let me take care of you.”
He entered me slowly from behind, so slowly I felt every thick inch, felt the stretch, felt my body accept his
“Okay?” His voice was strained with the effort of not just slamming into me the way we both wanted.
“Yes. God, yes. Move.”
He did, his thrusts slow and deep, his hands gentle on my hips. This was different from last night—less frantic, more thorough. Like he was savoring every inch, every sensation. Like he was memorizing the feel of me, like he was making love to me instead of just fucking me. The intimacy of it made my chest tight, made my throat close with emotion I wasn’t ready to name.
One hand slid around to find my clit, circling it gently with perfect pressure, with the exact rhythm I needed, and I felt the pressure building low in my belly.
“That’s it,” he encouraged. His voice dark and approving, making me want to please him more. “Feel how deep I am? How perfectly this pussy fits around my cock? “
“Yes,” I moaned, pushing back against him. Meeting his thrusts, taking him deeper, needing more despite everything. “Harder. Please, harder.”
“I thought you were sore?” I could hear the grin in his voice.
“I don’t care.” And I didn’t. The ache was nothing compared to the need. The soreness just made it better, made me feel every inch of him, made every thrust a perfect mix of pleasure and pain that I was already addicted to. “Give it to me harder.”
He obliged, his hips snapping forward with more force, and the combination of his cock hitting deep and his fingers on my clit sent me over the edge.
I came with a cry, my body clenching around him, my legs shaking and he followed seconds later with a groan, his fingers digging into my hips.
We stayed like that for a moment, both of us breathing hard, the water cascading over us. Then he carefully pulled out and turned me to face him.
“You okay?” His hands cupped my face, surprisingly gentle after what we’d just done. His eyes searching mine, checking on me, making sure he hadn’t hurt me, that tenderness making my heart ache.
“More than okay.” I smiled up at him. “Though I might not be able to walk later.”
“I’ll carry you.”
“To the truck? In front of the hotel staff?”
“If I have to.” He kissed me softly. A gentle press of lips that felt like a promise, like something more than just physical release.
We finished the shower—actual washing this time—and got dressed. My jeans chafed against my tender skin, and I winced as I pulled them on.
Crew noticed. “I can still carry you.”
“I’m fine.” I grabbed his shirt instead of mine, pulling it on. “I’m keeping this.”
“It’s yours.” His eyes heated as he put on the t-shirt he’d worn beneath the flannel shirt yesterday. “Though seeing you in my clothes does things to me.”
“Good things or bad things?”
“Definitely good things.” He pulled me close for another kiss. Deeper this time, his tongue sliding against mine, pulling me tight against him. “We should probably head back. Before your brother sends out a search party.”
Reality crashed back in. The mill. Work. The fact that we’d just spent the night together and I had no idea what happened next. The fact that he was here temporarily, and this was probably just one night and nothing more.
“Crew—” My voice came out uncertain, vulnerable in a way I hated.
