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“Nope. I’m doing this. I want to do this.”

He throws his head back, water beading from his thick, dark strands of hair, a wild look in his eyes, his pupils fully blown. I cup his heavy balls in my hand and bring my face to his groin. He’s perfect there, his legs massive against my small shoulders. I pump his cock and watch as it grows even longer in my hand and as more liquid leaks from the tip. My mouth waters, and when I taste that first drop of salty brine, my whole body jerks hard against the unforgiving shower floor. The throbbing between my leg intensifies to the point where I almost lose myself in it, but no. I want this. I want to remember every detail of this. The first time we did this.

I tease him with my tongue before I take him into my mouth. I’m careful. I know there’s no way I can take more than a few inches, but I use my hand and mouth in tandem, circling my tongue over the swollen head of his cock. I whimper at the taste of him on my tongue, salty and warm. He growls above me and throws out a hand against the plastic shower wall to support and steady himself while the other lands in my hair. His hips flex just slightly, and I like that. I take as much of him as I can before I pull back, exploring him with my tongue, lips, and palm. His balls are heavy in my other hand, heavy and warm, and so, so freaking…just…cool. That’s not the right word, but I’m focusing on something else at the moment. Something magical and amazing.

I love giving him pleasure, and I love making him feel good. I don’t mind that my core is pounding so hard that I feel like it could siphon enough blood from my head to make me black out. I also don’t care how badly I need my own release. I love the noises Ransom makes and the way his hips jack forward, even though I can tell he’s leashing all his power, holding back so that he doesn’t hurt me.

I love the rhythm we’re making, and when he pulls back slightly, I whimper. When he tugs me up by my armpits, I protest. Loudly. But he seals my lips with his own, eating the sounds of displeasure from me like they’re something exotic.

“Have to be inside you,” he gasps, and what do you know, any displeasure I felt slips straight away. “Need to,” he rasps. “Is that okay?”

My va-jay gives the air a giant fist bump that my nipples join in heartily with. “It’s more than okay.”

“Okay.” He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist like I was made to fit there. He steps out of the shower, leaving the water running. The vanity is perfectly built, and I use the word perfectly because when Ransom sits me down on the part that is solid, a good few feet of counter space before the sink, yes, that space is absolutely perfect.

He spreads my legs with one massive hand, the callouses rubbing over my wet skin. I take his hand in mine and squeeze his fingers over my leg, imprinting them there on my pale thigh until I can see faint red marks. My blood roars through me when I see those marks, his marks on my body. It makes me feel alive and feral, fearless and feminine, graceful and powerful. I open my legs wider, and Ransom growls. Then, I raise my feet to his hips, tugging him to me and digging my heels into the hard muscles of his perfect bottom.

He fits himself to my entrance so quickly, with a groan, that it makes my head swim. I did this. I did this to him. I made it so he couldn’t wait for more than a second to be inside me. Okay, so I can’t wait for more than a second, either. I arch on the counter, grabbing Ransom’s shoulders and pulling him to me. My hips are locked around his waist as he thrusts into me, seating himself fully. But he doesn’t move. Instead, he throbs inside me while he breathes raggedly at my ear.

I wriggle my hips.

Nothing.

I wriggle them again.

Nothing.

“Umm, are you…are you okay?” I stop digging my nails into his shoulder like a wild beast and brush his cheek instead. “Ransom?”

“I’m okay. Sorry, I…got a little heated in the shower. I just need…a few seconds. I’m a little too hyped up.”

Oh. Oh.

I hold still, giving him all the time he needs. I want to tell him it would be okay. Perfectly okay. However, I don’t, because if it were me, I’d want a second too. I don’t know where to look, so I look down, down the path of his chest, and down to…us. That’s a mistake because I squirm just a little, canting my hips forward and back. Because seriously, I just looked at us, and honestly, it’s so, so sexy and so mind-blowingly hot that I can’t help it. His cock kicks inside me, he thrusts once, and then he groans and goes still. Terribly. Awfully. Still.

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