I want to touch them, to hold him, but it always feels like it’s not my place to do that. Like I have absolutely no claim on him to be able to study his tattoos.
Adrian hits the button and the water soaks us in a second. He slowly rubs the blood off my hands and uses a brush to remove it from under my nails. Then he moves on to my face, my neck, and my arms.
I’m about to melt from the way he touches me. The care in his eyes. The softness that doesn’t suit his character that he shows only to me.
When he’s done, he wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up, digging his fingertips into my ass. Then he rams inside me in one ruthless stroke.
I come. Just like that.
I wasn’t even that aroused, but I think the way he washed me was so stimulating that all he had to do was enter me for me to orgasm.
It’s not even the physical stimulation, it’s the meaning behind it, the tenderness, the concern in his gray eyes that he’s only ever dedicated to me.
I don’t bother to muffle my moans, my screams, and my utter joy as he fucks me under the shower. I hold onto him with both hands, not wanting to let him go.
Not now, not ever.
He doesn’t stop fucking me, owning me, changing position every so often. His hands are everywhere, cupping my breasts, pinching my nipples, pulling my hair so he can nibble on a sensitive spot on my throat. He kisses me, then bites my tongue. He sucks on my nipple, then tugs on it. He powers into me slowly, then takes it to an irregular, maddening level.
It’s like he can’t get enough of me and wants to deepen our connection with each touch. He fucks like he talks, with apparent calm yet subtle darkness.
I’m so stimulated, I feel like one orgasm keeps bleeding into the other.
My front is now against the transparent shower stall as he powers into me from behind while caging both of my wrists in one hand on the glass above me.
My mouth is open in an ‘O’ as I take every delicious thrust and every sting of pain that comes with it.
“Ahhh…Adrian…I’m coming…”
He increases his rhythm, pinching my nipples with his other hand until they’re sore and I scream in pain. “So sensitive.”
“Adrian!” I fall down without any landing. I keep falling and rolling, finding a pause just so I can fall again.
If I knew this was how it would feel, I would’ve let him hear my voice so he would’ve fucked me a long time ago.
Adrian still hasn’t come. If anything, my orgasm has made him grow harder inside me. His lips meet my ear as he whispers, “Thank you for welcoming me home.”
And then he comes inside me again. I close my eyes to memorize the sensation and his words.
Thank you for being my home, I’m about to whisper in response, but his head falls into the space between my neck and shoulder and he kisses the skin there. “Fuck, I missed you, Lia.”
My whole body goes slack against him. Everything that happened tonight. His worry, his unbound passion, and even the way he’s nibbling on my skin and slightly rocking his hips were never meant for me.
He doesn’t see me. He’s only seeing Lia.
That thought cuts me open so deep, a tear slides down my cheek, mixing with the water and falling down the drain.
Because I know, I just know that he’ll never see me as Winter.
I’ll always be Lia.
27
Adrian
I can’t stop.
I say I will after one more time as I lift her up and lay her down on her stomach, opening her legs wide and thrusting into her from behind.
I said I would stop after I took her one more time in bed last night.
I said I would stop after I woke her up, my teeth nibbling on her neck and fingers teasing her clit.
But I’m a fucking liar.
I have no will or plan to stop. The more I taste her and inhale the tangible scent of her arousal, the more I’m tempted to feast on it. To eat her out, swallow her down so deep that she’ll never think about finding a way out. I come up with method after method to wrench one orgasm after the other from her.
Usually, I’m the type who knows the exact moment to stop. You can’t overdo or underdo things. Finding that balance is impossible for most people, but not for me. I’ve always excelled at being the ‘right amount’ type of person.
I’ve never cared too much or too little. Never gone overboard, never pushed boundaries. Never had addictions or things I couldn’t easily get rid of.
Lia is the exception to all of those.
She’s the addiction I didn’t see coming, and when I finally noticed her, she was already streaming in my blood.
She’s the one whose boundaries were supposed to be pushed, but I ended up being the one in a clusterfuck of problems.
This woman is intoxicating. She crept under my skin and injected her black magic into my bones. Now, she’s the reason I breathe. I feel like if I stop touching her, if I let her go, she’ll disappear again.
I’ll never have her again.
My thrusts become profound, sharp, and animalistic at the thought. I’ve never been as hard as I was last night and this morning. My dick is in a constant need to claim her, own her, and teach her that she’ll never go anywhere—willingly or unwillingly.
Lia’s body jerks, her fingers fisting into the belt that I looped around her wrists and attached to the hook in the bedpost. She looks so beautiful and so fucking mine.
Her frame is petite, breakable, and so fragile that it hurts to think what could’ve happened to her last night. Cuts mark the soles of her feet and there’s a bruise forming under her eye. The moment I saw her panting, crying, and in a mild state of shock, I swore to find whoever touched her and snap his fucking neck with my bare hands.
At the same time, when I saw her struggling to hold Yan upright and knowing she’d probably carried him for a long time, judging by the scratches on her feet, I felt a deep sense of pride. Because even though Yan was supposed to protect her, they found themselves in a reversed position and she didn’t leave a man behind.
This tiny fucking woman carried a large man on her back as if that were normal.
Those thoughts only fill me with more desire for her, more need to engrave myself under her skin and into her blood.
I dig my fingers into her ass cheek as my other hand lifts her stomach the slightest bit. With one of my knees firmly planted between her open thighs, this position gives me more room to power into her.
Lia bites the pillow, muffling her sounds again. She’s been doing that since I carried her out of the shower last night. I release her ass and lean over so my chest covers her back.
Her muscles bend under my touch, caving in the slightest bit as her walls clench around my dick. I thrust two fingers into her mouth, opening it. “Don’t hide from me, Lia. Let me hear your voice.”
Her eyes meet mine, moisture gathering in them. They’re quiet, but defiant. Determined, yet sad, like a natural disaster that doesn’t want to ruin people’s lives but knows that it has to happen, anyway.
“Lia. Open.”
She wraps her lips around my fingers and bites down hard as her insides strangle me. I come at the same time, my balls aching from the intensity of my release.
Lia’s knees buckle and she collapses the mattress. I want to fall over her, too, to kiss her throat and nibble on her rosy erect nipples. I want to worship her entire body just so I can do it all over again.