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Ronan took over and stripped. He kicked his clothes to the corner.
Calista soaped up the rest of him, luxuriating in every moment, and he pulled her close in his arms under the rainfall to remove all the lather. The sponge fell from her hand, and she clutched him, delighting in all the sensory pleasures.
Ronan caressed the back of her thighs, and then lifted her. Her back was to the steamed-up tiles, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. The pressure was twisty amazing. He shifted so he was right at her throbbing empty entrance, and he held her there, letting the anticipation build.
“Yes,” Calista gasped out the needy plea.
Ronan kissed her, a slow wet kiss, hotter than the warm water pulsing over them. He squeezed her bum and lowered her onto his length.
They both pulled their heads back and gasped in a breath. Then he moved his hands to her folds and traced her bundle of nerves as he pumped into her. Minutes and two rotations of the earth later, Calista fell over the edge losing touch with her body and then crashed back to it as another rush of pleasure consumed her.
Ronan groaned. “Calista.” He dropped his head to her shoulder as he came. A moment passed, and then he carefully lowered her and led her back under the water while cradling her against him.
* * *
Later that night, Ronan drove her back to her car, holding her hand. She wore one of his shirts over a stretchy loose pair of shorts. He parked beside her SUV, and Calista reached for the door handle.
Ronan tightened his grip on her fingers. “Don’t get out yet.”
