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“You’re awfully brooding for a man about to get married,” she tells me, tilting her head up for a quick kiss.
The water is streaming over her, and she looks sexy as hell.
“Not brooding,” I answer before pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that turns from soft to heated in an instant. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.”
A lot of women would probably melt at that line, especially considering I mean every word of it. But not my Chloe. She just rolls her eyes at me. “Think you’re pretty charming, don’t you?”
“I would, but there’s this hot redhead who’s made it her mission to keep me in my place.”
She laughs then, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me down for another kiss. “Her life’s mission,” she whispers against my mouth.
Those three words are all it takes to make me hard again. “You’re mine,” I tell her, sliding my hands to her waist to play with her belly chain.
“I am,” she agrees, in between soft kisses to my jaw and throat. “And you’re mine.”
She presses her mouth to my collarbone, nips sharply enough to leave a bruise. It’s her way of marking me as surely as I’ve marked her.
It’s the last straw. Fuck the schedule. Fuck worrying about Brandon. Fuck everything but this moment, here and now, with the woman I love.
I slide my hands around to her back, then down to cup her ass as I lift her against me.
“We can’t,” she tells me, even as she wraps her legs around my waist.
“We have to,” I answer, sliding inside of her. She’s hot and tight and wet, so wet, despite her halfhearted protest.
“Tori and Sebastian—”
“Are busy people. They probably don’t even realize we’re running late.”
“But—”
I suck her lower lip into my mouth, bite down softly. She moans, trembles. Her fingers clutch at my shoulders as she arches against me.
It’s all the encouragement I need. Slipping one of my hands between us, I glide my fingers over her breasts. I pinch her nipples, stroke her stomach. Then, just as she whimpers a little—the sound getting lost in the press of my mouth against hers—I slide my thumb across her clit. Once, and then again and again.
She cries out and I revel in the soft, broken sound. In the way she leans her head back against the cool tile of the shower and the way her body clenches around my cock. It’s the best fucking feeling in the world.
“You sure you want to hurry this?” I tease. “Sure you want to run off and meet Sebastian and Tori?”
“Who?” Her voice is faint, her eyes glazed.
It only turns me on more, the way she loses herself in me and what I’m doing to her.
The way she loses herself in us.
And then she’s moving, her hips lifting and falling against my own and I’m lost, too. Drowning in sensation. Drowning in the feel, the scent, the sound of Chloe. She’s all melted honey and broken breaths now, all heat and softness and need as she licks my chest, claws my back, shudders against me.
“Ethan, please,” she gasps and it’s all I need. All I’ll ever need—the sound of Chloe calling my name as she trembles on the edge of ecstasy.
And then I’m thrusting, deep and fast, inside of her as my thumb circles her clit in the way I know makes her crazy. It only takes a few seconds before she’s crying out, her nails digging deep into the muscles of my back.
“I’ve got you, baby. Let go. I promise, I’ve got you,” I tell her just as I pinch her clit between my thumb and index finger.
She whimpers, a high-pitched keening sound that has electricity shooting up my spine and need tearing along my every nerve ending. I grit my teeth, try to hold on just a little longer, just a little—
Chloe comes screaming my name, her body milking mine with a series of hot, hard pulses that send me careening over the edge with her.
“Chloe, baby, I love you,” I gasp as I empty myself into her.
