But his hands were persuasive, his lips demanding as he shifted, turning them so that her shoulders were pressed against the tiles at the back of the shower and the water cascaded over his shoulders. His hair was wet and curled over his forehead, his eyes were a dark, erotic blue and he stared up at her as he lowered himself slowly, cupping her breasts between his hands, pushing them together and kissing first one damp anxious nipple, then the next. She writhed as his breath scraped across the wet, dark buds and she trembled deep inside, burning with the need to feel more of him, all of him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his thumbs rubbing the tips of her breasts before he pushed them together and buried his face between them. Her legs went weak as he turned his head and, as water tumbled over him, began to suckle. She arched against the tiles as one of his hands slid around her back and held her tight to his face. Cradling his head, holding him close in the hot water, she gave in to the desire that burned in the deepest part of her.
He kissed and teased and tasted, nipping and sucking at her breasts, the hand at the curve of her spine forcing her closer still.
“Nick, oh, God, Nick, oh, please . . .” she whispered, her mind spinning wildly, her body aching for even more of him. He breathed against her and moved lower, his tongue sliding over the skin of her abdomen, touching and tracing her belly button as she gasped for air. Then he slid lower, now on his knees, his mouth caressing her slick abdomen.
She gasped as his hands slid down her backside and he kissed the curls at the juncture of her legs. “Let go, darlin’,” he said, his breath fanning her sensitive skin, her legs parting to allow him to touch her, kiss her, explore her.
She could barely breathe, couldn’t think, could only feel. All of her senses tingled as he opened her, tasted her, his hands kneading her buttocks, his tongue playing sweet magic, his breath swirling hot within her, the water misting around them.
“That’s my girl,” he said as the first spasm hit and her mind shattered. She wanted to touch him, to hold him, to tell him she loved him, but she was forced against the wall of the shower, her hands flung outward, her fingers stiff as they scraped the wall, searching for something, anything to clutch.
He moved a shoulder, hooked her knee over it and gained deeper access. Her heel pressed into his back. Dear God. Sweet, sweet torment and glorious torture were her companions. It was as if her whole being were centered deep inside her. “Come on, darlin’,” he breathed into her as he maneuvered her other leg over his opposing shoulder and kissed her deep, touched her so intimately tears rolled down her cheeks and she couldn’t find her breath.
A low, raspy, animal sound escaped from her throat. “Nick, o-o-o-oh, Nick . . .”
“Let go, darlin’ . . .”
She bucked. Again. And again. Something deep inside broke and tears ran down her face, mingling with the shower’s hot spray. “Oh, please . . .”
In one swift movement, he swung her legs over his head and straightened. “Nick, I—”
“Shh.” He lifted her from her feet, turned off the water and dripping puddles on the carpet carried her into the bedroom where he placed her on the rumpled covers of her bed. “Now, Marla . . .” he said, determination edging his voice, the expression on his face serious, the need in his eyes naked. “Make love to me.”
Swallowing hard, knowing she was about to cross a bridge that would surely crumble behind her, she reached up and found the buckle of his belt. With unsteady fingers she unhooked the sodden leather strap, let it fall free and caught the button at the waistband of his jeans. She tugged. His fly opened with a quick series of pops. Swallowing hard, with renewed determination, she pushed the heavy, sodden denim over his hips. He kicked the jeans onto the floor and she caught her first glimpse of his naked body.
Tough sinew.
Stringent muscles.
Coarse hair.
All male.
Strong muscles stretched as he gently pushed her back on the bed, kissed the dewy drops of moisture from her breasts, then stared deep into her eyes.
“Tell me you want me.”
She licked her lips. “I . . . I want you.” Oh, Nick, if you only knew, she thought, throbbing with a raw, hungry passion that burned through her.
“Tell me you’ll never regret this.”
“I won’t.” It was a lie. She’d regret it the moment it was over. But she didn’t give a damn.
“Neither will I,” he said, then covered her mouth with his.
Strong knees nudged her legs apart and she trembled. Ached. Yearned for the feel of him. His thick erection brushed over her abdomen and she tingled, her skin on fire, her breathing difficult. “I’ve wanted to do this from the moment I saw you again,?
?? he whispered, kissing the side of her cheek. “Even though you were bruised and hurting, I wanted you as badly as I ever did.”
“And . . . and I wanted you,” she admitted, guilt boring deep in her heart as she let her fingers explore the ridges and planes of his shoulders and arms.
Slowly, watching her reaction, he nudged at her between her legs and she gasped. Sweat beaded his brow, strain pulled at the muscles of his face as he settled over her, braced on his elbows. She ran her fingers down the smooth muscles of his back, traced the ridge of his spine and he kissed her again. Hard. He nudged again and she quivered, arching upward, wanting the feel of him inside her.
“Oh, lady.” With one slow thrust, he delved deep.
Her breath caught somewhere between her lungs and mouth as he withdrew so slowly she thought she would die. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his back. Then he thrust again, covered her mouth with his and gave into the need deep in his soul.