Chapter 9 #2
He's quiet for a moment and then confesses, "You turn me on in a way I can't switch off.
I've tried, fuck how I have tried, but it doesn't work.
Nothing works. You fight me, every single time.
You don't break the way I expected. You spit at me, hit me, run from me, and yet you're still here.
" His thumb keeps tracing circles. "Nobody has ever done that.
" His voice drops lower. "You're the most infuriating, stubborn, beautiful woman I've ever seen, and I have no idea what to do with you, except keep you. "
Oh.
Wow, that’s a lot to take in, but I appreciate his honesty.
He is the most infuriating person I’ve ever met, and as much as I fight him and he tries to break me, I think I like that he tries to break me.
The way he takes what he wants from me, I see the hunger in his eyes when he looks at me.
No one in my life has ever looked at me like I’m worthy.
My hand moves under the water without thinking, and I find him, he's already hard. He’s thick and heavy against my palm.
He inhales sharply, his hips shift, and I feel the response run through his whole body.
A sharp breath, a tightening of his stomach muscles, his hand gripping the edge of the tub.
Water sloshes over the sides and onto the marble.
He's looking up at me, and for once, the control is gone.
His hands are on the sides of the tub, not on me.
He's not commanding, not directing, not taking, he's waiting and watching to see what I am going to do next.
I don’t think, I feel, and decide to climb onto his lap and straddle him.
My knees press into the porcelain on either side of his hips, and I reach between us to hold him before I sink down slowly.
So slowly that my mouth falls open, as does his, and neither of us makes a sound except the water lapping against the sides.
He fills me completely, the stretch, the depth, the way my body adjusts around him.
But there's no pain this time, no punishment and no force, just fullness and warmth and the feeling of his heart beating fast under my palms where they rest on his chest. I roll my hips slowly, and his hands come up to my waist. They don't grip me, they hold, gently, like I might disappear if he squeezes too hard.
I move like that for a long time, languid rolls of my hips, rising and sinking with the rhythm of the water.
Every motion sends soft ripples across the surface of the bath as the steam curls around us.
His cock slides so deep inside me on every downstroke that I feel him in my belly, thick and hot and perfectly fitted.
Kairo’s head tips back against the edge of the tub, lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded as he watches me ride him.
His thumbs trace slow circles on my waist, then slide up to cup my breasts with aching reverence.
He doesn’t pinch or tug, he just holds them, thumbs brushing lightly over my hardened nipples until I shiver and moan softly.
The sound seems to undo him. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to mine, our breaths mingling in the steam.
One of his hands slides up my back, fingers threading gently through my damp hair as he pulls me into a slow, deep kiss.
His tongue strokes mine lazily, tasting, savoring, like he’s trying to memorize every second of this.
I roll my hips again, grinding down on him in a slow circle, and he groans into my mouth, low, rough, and needy.
The vibration travels straight through me.
We stay like that, moving together in the warm water. There’s no rush, no violence or anger, just slick, sensual friction and the quiet sounds of our breathing as the water laps against the sides of the tub.
Every time I sink down, he meets me with a gentle upward roll of his hips, pushing a little deeper, a little sweeter. My pleasure builds, and I rest my forehead against his, eyes locked, breathing the same air as the tension coils tighter and tighter inside me.
When I finally come, it’s quiet and devastating.
A long, trembling wave that starts deep in my core and spreads through every limb.
I clench around him, gasping softly against his lips as my body shudders and pulses.
Kairo holds me through it, one arm wrapped around my back, the other cradling the back of my head like I’m precious.
Only when my trembling starts to ease does he let himself go.
He groans my name into my mouth as he comes, hips pressing up into me as he spills deep inside, warm and endless.
He holds me there, buried to the hilt, arms locked tight around me while the water slowly cools around our joined bodies.
We stay like that for a long time, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling, hearts slowing in sync, as the steam drifts lazily toward the ceiling.
"Summer," he breathes, and my name sounds different in his mouth this time. "Stay," he murmurs against my neck. It’s not a command, it’s a request.
"I'm not going anywhere," I say.
And for the first time, I'm not sure if it's a lie.