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Bowed her head in submission.
Even as something dark and dirty inside her whispered that she’d won.
16
Ice wasn’t sure if he’d won or lost. Wasn’t even sure if he was still playing the damn game.
Because when that curtain fell away to reveal Indy’s naked curves glistening wet in the hot jets, shining dark in the thick steam, her tight little nipples puckered and pebbled at the center of petite round breasts, the raven-black curls masking her sex shining like diamonds in the night, Ice knew he was done for, totally destroyed, at the mercy of whatever this woman had awakened inside him, aroused in the depths of his being, brought forth from his very essence as a man.
Her man.
“Oh, hell, Indy,” he muttered as he stared through the steam, watched her turn away from him, raise her arms and place her palms flat against the weeping walls, her curves obscured in erotic mystery by the storm-clouds of their private chamber.
A chamber into which Ice now stepped.
His bare feet crossed the threshold of the shower stall, and the clouds enveloped him, the steam boiling the air around them, his heat roiling the blood within him.
Indy’s head was slightly lowered, her fingers splayed wide, palms tight against the wall like there was a tension inside her that needed to be released, like she wanted to claw at those walls, burrow through the brick, tear through the tiles.
“Easy,” he whispered as he leaned in close, stroked her slicked-down hair from behind, kissed the steam-soaked arch of her neck, ran the back of his rough hand down between her shoulder blades, tracing his finger along her trembling spine. “Relax. You’re safe with me. You’ll always be safe with me.”
Indy let out a moaning exhale as Ice’s thick fingertip traced its way down the center of her lower back, stopping just above the beginning of her gorgeous ass. He kept his fingertip pressed there, leaned in close to her neck again, a grizzly grin breaking on his stubbly face.
“Of course, I need to make sure that I’m safe too,” Ice growled against the side of her neck, his tongue snaking out to taste her, to try her, to mark her. “And so I’m going to have to search you again. For my own protection, you understand?”
Indy gasped as Ice licked her neck again, then dragged that solitary finger delicately down the outside edges of her tightly closed rear crack, tracing little circles around the smooth skin of her buttocks, making her shudder and shiver, groan and grumble, moan and mumble.
“Did you say something?” Ice whispered against her neck as that finger found the bottom edge of her rear parting, snaked its way beneath her fork, eased its way across her slit, curled its way towards her clit. “Is that you begging?”
Indy mumbled out something that was lost in the thunder of the shower-cannons, didn’t make it through the roar of blood in Ice’s head. She turned her head sideways, and Ice groaned when he saw how tightly shut Indy’s eyelids were, her pretty face twisted in a grimace of shuddering ecstasy, her dark red lips muttering out incomprehensible sounds as they trembled from his touch, quivered from his caress, pulsed from his perusal.
“Just sayplease,” Ice whispered as his fingertip traced the slick surface of Indy’s nether lips. He yearned to push his thick finger into her from beneath and behind, was almost out of his damn mind at the way her vagina clenched tight and then relaxed as he petted her. He wasn’t sure how long he could maintain this cool frame, wasn’t certain how long he could pretend like he was in control of anything at all right now. “Say the word and I’ll take care of you, Indy. Take care of that need. All you have to do is ask. All you have to do is beg.”
Now Indy managed to shake her head, her eyelids still shut tight, lips clamped shut but still trembling. Her fingertips clawed at the walls, her legs parting subtly as Ice teased her slit, moved dangerously close to her clit.
But she didn’t say the word, didn’t ask the question, didn’t beg for the release.
Ice gulped back the desperate urge to drop to his knees and push his face up where his finger was right now. But somehow he held himself back, using most of his remaining willpower to not give in to that burning need to taste her from below, to replace that lucky finger with his thirsty tongue, to lose himself in her and admit that he’d lost whatever semblance of control he’d started with, would end up on his knees before he ever got Indy to go down on hers.
Ice tried to get his finger out of there, away from that warm secret space between her parted legs. But it was impossible, and now Ice sensed his cock throbbing behind her ass, yearning to follow the path his finger had traced to her pussy from below. Ice was at the edge of his willpower, on the brink of spanking that ass and pressing down on that lower back and driving into her slit from behind, taking his release before he got her to beg for hers.
But still Ice held on, reveling in the way this woman was ripping him to shreds because she herself was torn between desire and doubt, between resisting and relinquishing, snarling and spitting before sighing and submitting.
She was perfect.
Fucking perfect.
Like she’d been made for him.
Suddenly Ice was overcome by a rush of yearning, a desperate sort of need that wasn’t physical or even emotional but some potent combination of the mind and the body, the spirit and the animal, the past and the future.
That rush pulled him back to that moment when those uncharacteristic wordsfateanddestinyhad gushed past his lips, words that awakened conflicting emotions in Ice because they’d been used by his parents to justify their own bad choices. He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening, his throat constricting as that sense of yearning ripped through him again, a desperate need to hold this woman close, like she was the answer to questions he didn’t know how to ask, didn’t know if he wanted to ask, didn’t know if he fuckingdaredto ask.
“Ask me again,” came Indy’s voice through the raging madness in Ice’s head. “Ask me again, Ice.”
Ice blinked himself back from where he’d disappeared, realized he was embracing Indy from behind, his face buried in the crook of her neck, one arm wrapped tight around her mid-section beneath her breasts, the other hand lower against her front, palm flat against her abdomen, fingertips buried in the wet curls marking the top edge of her triangle.
“Ask you what?” Ice muttered, a vague memory of himself saying something flickering through his consciousness. He tried to remember what he'd just said but couldn't. “Ask you what again?”
