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The steam has filled up the bathroom, creating a sauna. It’s hard to breath, the air thick and hot.
He lets the spray hit my clit until I can feel my juices dripping down my thighs. Then he lines himself up, sliding in slowly this time. He grunts and twitches. “Shit. You’re fucking drenched.” He growls through clenched teeth.
“Mmm.” I moan, the feel of the spray hitting hard against me and his rigid cock sliding into me makes talking impossible. It almost makes breathing impossible, too.
His slow thrust turns quicker as the minutes go on. I’m barely conscious at this point, holding onto an orgasm that’s going to tear me in half.
“You’re going to come again.” He commands.
“I can’t. It’s too much.” I sob, the pleasure pulsing through my fingertips. The orgasm burns between my legs as it threatens to take over.
“You will.” His hand goes up, twisting the nozzle until the spray goes from a hard shower to a hard spray. The water moves from all over the shower head to only the center, creating a painful spray as it hits directly on my clit. “Oh!” I scream as I go limp in his arms. The pleasure is too much. The pain is too much. I can’t take it.
“Now. Come.” He commands again, slamming into me harder. Faster. His pace quickens and it all become too much, and my roots of pleasure bloom until it takes over, lighting me on fire that rages so heavily my vision goes dark.
My entire body twitches as my orgasm abates after some time, and rough hands gently pass over my body. I glance down, watching as his soapy hands wash my body, caressing my skin and I swear, turning me when I thought it was impossible.
I rest my back against the tile. The cool is refreshing. “You’re bad.”
He smirks, a curl of wet hair dangling in front of his face. “Told you that you weren’t ready. You’re about to pass out.”
He washes himself down quickly then turns off the shower. He pulls the towel that was laying over the shower curtain and wraps it around me. “Come with me.” He lifts me up, this time bridal style. He steps out, sopping wet, and walks out of the bathroom. He takes a right into a small hallway and walks to the end, pushing a door open with his foot and walking into a large bedroom.
His bedroom is painted a dark, dark blue with gray furniture throughout. His bed sits unmade with black sheets and a black comforter, all bunched together in the center of his bed. His pillow has a permanent indent in the center.
A laundry basket sits at the edge of his bed, and clothes are oozing out of it like lava out of a volcano.
He drops me in the center of his bed and climbs on top of me. Everything around me smells like him. His minty, woodsy scent with a hint of smoke. His lips press against my collar bone and trail upwards, ending on my lips.
I bring my hand up and run it through the back of his wet hair. “Thank you. For bringing me here.”
He falls back on his pillow, pulling me up so I’m snuggled up against him. “It’s just my little shack. I’m on my bike more than I’m here.”
“It’s nice, though. Not as bachelor-y as the clubhouse.” A question eats at me that’s been building since we pulled up here. “Have you… have you brought many girls here?”
He barks out a laugh. “A couple.”
I whip my head to the side, giving him a death glare. Which only makes him laugh harder.
“You. Haley. Violet” He says once he can control his laughter.
I continue to glare at him.
He props himself up on his side, bringing his free hand to brush the wet strands of hair out my face. “You’re literally the only girl that’s been in this house besides Haley and Violet. No one else has been here, except for the guys.”
“So, what… the girls you sleep with, you sleep with them in the bed that Lilah and I sleep in?” Bitter acid coats my tongue. “I’m not sleeping on that bed ever again.”
He laughs at me.
“You think I’m kidding. I’m not fucking kidding.” I’m actually kind of pissed about it and sit up to slide out of his bed.
“Hold up.” He latches his long fingers around wrist and pulls me back down. Keeping me pinned down, he rolls over so he’s on top of me. “I can’t help but feel like you’re still on the edge of fleeing. You a flight risk, Ivy?”
“No.” I glance out his window, feeling my wall start to rise.
He grabs my chin and forces my gaze back to him. “I keep tryin’ with you, Ivy. And I see these moments where the real you comes out, but other moments I feel like you’re a million miles away. Like, Mexico, away. What’s the deal?”
I melt into his comforter and release the pent-up breath I was holding. “I … I’m not…”
