Page 10 of Owning His Girl

We enter the bedroom, and then we're in the bathroom, steam clouding around us like a misty veil.

That’s when I realize the shower is running.

Finally, Wes gently places me on my feet, and the sudden loss of his warmth makes me shiver despite the heat enveloping us.

"Strip," he orders.

I blink up at him, my mind scrambling for footing. "Why?"

That familiar grin finally breaks across Wes's face, the one that used to infuriate me to no end—and now ignites something far more dangerous.

"Because you're taking a shower with me," he says.

I stand frozen, my eyes tracing the defined lines of his figure as steam curls around him. The heat in the room is nothing compared to the fire he ignites within me.

"Get in here, baby," his voice cuts through the haze, rough and commanding. It's an order laced with an unspoken promise that sends a tremor of anticipation down my spine. My feet move of their own accord, shedding clothes piece by piece until I'm as bare as he is.

I step into the shower, the warm water enveloping me. I catch Wes staring, nostrils flaring, his gaze intense enough to make my heart skip.

"Goddamn, Fiona," he growls, and there's a raw edge to his voice that's purely primal.

Water cascades down Wes's chiseled body, the droplets riveting like tiny spotlights against his taut skin. He's a sight, muscles rippling, abs contracted into a hard, washboard terrain.

In two strides, he closes the gap between us. His hands find my waist, and suddenly my back presses against the cool tiles.

His lips crash onto mine, and I taste the wildness on him—a flavor that screams freedom and recklessness.

Without thinking, I bite down on his bottom lip, tasting the tang of desire.

He groans, a deep sound that vibrates through me.

“That’s it, baby. Bite me, fight me, claw me, do whatever you want," he breathes out, his words wrapping around me tighter than the steam. "I love how feisty you are."

And just like that, any lingering doubts evaporate.

There's no turning back now, not with Wes looking at me like I'm the only thing in this world that matters. Not when every touch from him wipes clean the slate of our past animosities, replacing them with something much more dangerous and addictive.

Heat surges between us, the kiss igniting a fire that consumes any lingering hesitation. My breath catches as I hitch my leg around Wes's hip, an invitation he accepts without a moment's pause.

His finger slides into me. "You're a virgin, aren't you?"

The truth tumbles from my lips without a second thought. "Yes."

A feral grin spreads across his face, and his voice drops to a husky whisper.

"That's so damn hot. I can't wait to make this virgin pussy come for me." The words are a promise, a vow that sends shivers racing down my spine.

Wes lowers his mouth to my neck, his lips and teeth marking me in a way that feels like claiming.

He's rough with his fingers, yet it's exactly what I crave—a relentless pursuit of pleasure that borders on desperation. I moan, loud and unrestrained, driven by the sensation that eclipses everything else.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this," Wes murmurs against my skin, his voice thick with need. It's a confession that feeds the growing storm within me.

I grind against his hand shamelessly, chasing the high that's building with every precise stroke. He knows exactly where to touch, sending jolts of electricity through me, each one more intense than the last.

Stars burst behind my closed eyelids, and then I'm there—shattering, coming apart at the seams under the onslaught of his relentless ministrations.

As I gasp for air, clinging to him, Wes doesn't slow down. He leans close, his breath hot on my ear. "That was just the beginning."

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