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It was a hard fuck. A fuck where I pounded her against the slick walls of my shower. An animal fuck.
“You’re not ready,” I said.
She took one of my hands and led it to her pussy. “I am.”
Fuck, she was slick as my herbal shampoo. And warm. Make that hot.
Without thinking, I slid a finger into her.
She moaned softly.
“Feel good?” I asked.
“Better than good.”
I fingered her gently, finding her G-spot and giving it a good press.
“Oh!” She nearly lost her footing.
I steadied her with my free arm. Get hold of yourself, Reid. You aren’t going to fuck her.
But my dick had a mind of its own. I slid my finger out of her, hoisted her slick body into my arms, and set her down on my hard cock.
Fuck. There was no going back now.
She and I were fucking. In my shower. And my God, I felt like I’d come home.
So tight and ridged. So perfect around my hardness, as if she’d been created for me.
I stayed embedded inside her for a few precious seconds, trying to get her used to me, but then I could hold on no longer.
I moved her off of me and then plunged her back down again.
She screamed, but it was a good scream. Her eyes were closed and her breasts flushed from more than the water, which had become lukewarm.
“Yes, yes.” The words left her throat in a gasp.
Yes. That was all I needed.
I pushed her against the shower wall and thrust up into her. Again. Again. Again.
I clenched my teeth, grasping every last shred of control I had to make this last. To make it good for her.
But stick a fork in me. I was done.
I plunged into her as far as I could, my balls scrunched and aching for release.
And I gave in.
The orgasm ripped through me with explosive force, and for the first time, not just my cock was involved.
Every cell of my body seemed to hum with the climax.
I shuddered all over.
The release went on and on, and I stayed inside Zee, pinning her to the shower wall, complete in a way I’d never experienced before.
My cheek was flush against her neck and shoulder, and I made my legs go rigid so I wouldn’t collapse and bring us both to the hard shower floor.
We panted against each other, our bodies still fused.
After timeless moments, my dick slid out of her and I gently released her as her feet touched the floor.
I had to look at her. Tell her I hadn’t meant to go so far.
Apologize.
“Wow,” was all I said, though.
Seemed to sum it up pretty perfectly as far as I was concerned.
But more of my concern was for the woman who grabbed a shampoo bottle and squeezed some into her palm. She spread it on my hair, digging her fingertips into my scalp.
“Zee…”
“Shh,” she said. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want to think about any consequences right now. I just want to live in this moment. With you.”
Okay. I’d take it. At least until the water got so cold we had to turn it off. The steam was dissipating.
She massaged my scalp for a wonderful minute and then moved me toward one of the pulsating shower heads, where she helped me rinse it out. She shampooed her own hair then, and though I wanted more than anything to do it for her, all I could do was stare.
Stare at this beautiful woman who I’d just fucked hard against a wall.
This woman who deserved a much gentler hand. A much gentler touch.
She washed her body then, so I did the same, and by the time we were ready to leave the shower, the water had indeed turned uncomfortably cool.
I opened the glass door, grabbed two fluffy black bath sheets, and wrapped one around Zee. Such a shame to cover her up, but she’d catch a chill otherwise.
I kept my teeth from chattering as I dried off with the other sheet and then wrapped it around my waist.
Her hair was wet and sticking to her forehead and neck, but God…had she ever looked more beautiful?
“I’m not sorry,” she said abruptly.
“I’m glad.”
“Are you?”
“Sorry?” I sighed. “It’s not how I meant for it to go.”
“Really? It was amazing.”
“Well…yeah. It was great. But I didn’t mean to do it at all.”
“Why not? We both wanted it.”
“But you… I didn’t want it like this with you. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“You’re the Wolfe of Manhattan,” she said, looking down. “It’s what you do.”
“Not with you,” I countered, more harshly than I meant to.
She looked up, her eyes glassy, sad. “I’m no different than any other woman.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m not. Do you think other women don’t have pasts?”
“Not like yours.”
“Maybe not exactly like mine, but you’d be surprised. You should see the bruising and scarring I see on some of my cast mates. And Reid, some scars aren’t visible.”
