I silently curse myself, step out of the water, and tug her into me. "What's wrong, pet?"
She tilts her face up. Her lips tremble, and tears fill her blues.
Panic shoots through me. I grab her ass cheeks, pick her up, and pin her to the wall, repeating, "What's wrong?"
She glances at my lips, swallows hard, then locks her sad gaze on mine. Her voice shakes, and she whispers, "I want you to want me."
"I do want you," I honestly declare.
Tears fall down her cheeks. She shakes her head. "You won't even kiss me."
Every rationale I have about why I don't kiss subs or how I'm moving too fast and need to back off flies out the window. My tongue wraps around hers so fast she gasps, then hers molds against mine with urgent fury.
It's once again too soon. But my control is nonexistent. She squeezes her legs tighter around my waist and lifts her hips over my erection.
As much as I want her, I can't keep risking her getting pregnant. Last night was reckless, and I promised to protect her, not ruin her life.
So it's too soon, but I tug the plug out of her ass and toss it on the ground. I reposition my cock under her cheeks and pull out of our kiss for a brief moment, pausing to wait for her to make the next move, which isn't something I'd normally ever do.
She takes a few breaths, not tearing her gaze off mine, then whispers, "Don't stop."
Another tense moment passes, then another dam breaks, washing all my thoughts about what I should or shouldn't be doing with her right now down the drain.
My lips attack hers, and as I push past her hard ridge, she sinks her hips, digging her nails into my skull, whimpering with fluttering eyelids.
I press her closer to the wall, exerting the control I should have had the previous night, thrusting at a pace she's comfortable with while slipping my thumb between us and circling her clit.
In the glow of the pink morning sky, there are no orders, or Sir, or controlling agenda. It's an animalistic urge to show her a different side of me, one that only wants her.
I barely feel the spray of the water on my back. I'm lost in her, consumed by how she clings to me, obsessed with how her tongue seems to crave mine.
I have no urges to stop her from coming. A desire to get her there and keep her there festers within me.
An earthquake explodes within her, and the tremors continue like aftershocks, as violent as the initial eruption, driving me to the point I can't continue.
Only this time, I don't retreat. I bury my head into the curve of her neck, convulsing inside her with force.
When it's over, I slowly retreat, lifting my face in front of her, firmly warning, "Don't ever doubt again how much I want you."
As the words come out of my mouth, I know I've crossed another line. Yet I'm unsure how to save myself from what's sure to be my downfall.
11
Blakely
Riggs washes my hair and body, then turns off the shower. He reaches for a towel, wraps it around my head, then uses another to diligently dry off every inch of my skin.
I'm still shaking, holding on to the wall so I don't lose my balance. He rises, tightens the towel around his hard frame, and avoids looking at me. He leads me into the house, steering me directly to the bathroom inside his suite, and declares, "There's a hair dryer under the sink and a comb and brush in the drawer. Help yourself." Before I can respond, he kisses the top of my head and disappears.
I find the comb, untangle my hair, then locate the dryer. It's a top-of-the-line European one, and I doubt Riggs uses it. Even the comb and brush scream they're for a woman. I peer closer at them, wondering if any other women he's been with have used them or the dryer.
Why am I worrying about this?
There's no hair on the tools, making them appear new. Relief fills me, and I turn on the dryer and don't turn it off until my locks are no longer wet.
I study my reflection, wondering if I appear any different, reminiscing about what I just did with Riggs in the shower.
Kissing him was more than I bargained for. It was an explosive mix of passion and something I've never experienced before. I can only describe it as euphoria out of control.