Chapter 19 #3
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. But no words come out.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” I murmur, taking another step closer. “It means so much to me that you’re choosing to be here.”
She looks at me through the steam, her lips parted, her eyes searching mine like she’s trying to find the lie, the trick, the trap.
But there isn’t one. Not this time. This is just the truth, raw and vulnerable and terrifying.
The loofah falls from her hand, hitting the wet tiles.
I reach out and pull her to me.
“Cristiano!” She gasps as the hot water hits her, immediately plastering her sweater and leggings to her body. I steady her with my hands on her waist, feeling her curves through the soaked fabric.
“Can’t say it?” I ask, water running over both our lips. “Then I’ll say it for you. I never want to leave this moment.”
She looks up at me, water streaming down her face, her eyes wide and stormy.
I lower my head and kiss her.
She makes a sound of surprise that turns into surrender, and then she’s kissing me back with a fierceness that steals my breath. Her hands slide up into my wet hair, pulling me closer, her nails scraping against my scalp in a way that makes me groan into her mouth.
I’m backing her against the tile, my hands on her waist, my body covering hers while the water streams over both of us. Mina in my arms, kissing me like she needs this as much as I do.
I break the kiss just long enough to peel her soaked sweater and T-shirt over her head.
It hits the shower floor with a wet slap, forgotten immediately as I take in the sight of her.
Her bra is sheer and clinging from the water, and I can see her nipples dark beneath the wet fabric.
For a moment, I’m mesmerized by the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she pants.
“So perfect,” I murmur against her throat, kissing the pulse point that’s fluttering wildly. “So fucking perfect, Mina.”
My hands slide down her sides, feeling every curve through the wet fabric of her leggings. She’s trembling as I keep touching her, kissing her, showing her that this is real.
“We shouldn’t do this,” she breathes against my mouth, but her hands are in my hair, holding me close, contradicting her words.
“We are doing this.” I kiss her again, deeper, claiming her mouth with a thoroughness that makes her whimper. “You’re here with me, Mina. Kissing me like you’ve been wanting to for days.”
My hand slides between her thighs, rubbing her through the wet fabric of her leggings, and she gasps against my mouth, her whole body arching at the contact.
“I’m not trying to trap you,” I tell her, working my hand against her, feeling the heat of her even through the layers of wet cloth. “I’m just touching you. Showing you how much I want you. How perfect this could be if you’d just let yourself have it.”
Her head falls back against the tile, and I watch water run down her throat and her eyes close.
I work my hand beneath the waistband of her leggings, then beneath her underwear, and when I find her slick and swollen, my knees nearly buckle.
“God, Mina,” I breathe. “You’re so wet for me.”
She moans my name, gripping my shoulders tight enough to bruise. “Cristiano.”
“I know.” I circle her clit with gentle pressure. “I know, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
Her hand slides down between us, and when her fingers wrap around my cock I nearly lose my mind.
The touch is unpracticed and uncertain, her grip clenching, hesitant and uneven, like she’s not sure what she’s doing.
But God, it feels good. Her hand on me, skin to skin, finally touching me the way I’ve dreamed about.
“Yes,” I groan against her neck, my hips bucking involuntarily into her grip. “Touch me, Mina. Just like that. God, just like that.”
She tightens her grip experimentally, stroking me with uneven movements that tell me she’s distracted by what I’m doing to her, the way I’m circling her clit with steadily increasing pressure.
Her strokes become more ragged as I push two fingers inside her, and she cries out, her back arching off the tile.
I have to brace my free hand against the wall beside her head to keep myself upright, because the combination of her hand on me and the sight of her coming apart is almost more than I can handle.
My side is starting to ache from the position, from the tension coiling through my body, but I don’t care.
I would stand here until I collapsed if it meant I could keep touching her like this.
Mina’s thighs are trembling, and she rocks her hips against my hand, chasing sensation with an abandon that tells me she’s forgotten to be scared of me.
She makes a frustrated sound in her throat, and then suddenly she’s pulling back from me just enough to yank her soaked leggings and underwear down with desperate, impatient hands. She kicks them away without ceremony.
Then she’s pressed against me again, completely bare except for her translucent bra, her skin hot and slick against mine.
My Mina, naked in my arms, in my house. The life I’ve been anticipating for as long as I can remember has finally begun.
I slide my hand between her thighs again, this time with nothing between us, and thrust two fingers into her tight, slick heat. She cries out, her back arching, her hand tightening around my cock.
“This is what you want, isn’t it?” I ask, curling my fingers to find that spot that makes her gasp. “This is what you’ve been afraid to admit. That you want me. That you want this. That you want us to be a family.”
“Yes,” she sobs, and I don’t know if she’s answering my question or just begging for more. “Yes, God, Cristiano, please.”
“You’re melting for me.” I increase the pressure, the rhythm, watching her face as pleasure builds. “You’re opening up for me, letting me in. You were always meant to be mine, Mina. This is where you belong.”
I can feel her inner walls starting to flutter around my fingers. I double the pace, intent on giving her everything.
“Come for me,” I demand. “Let me feel you fall apart. Let me see that I’m the one who can do this to you.”
She breaks with a cry, her whole body convulsing, her inner walls clenching rhythmically around my fingers while her hand squeezes my cock in reflexive pulses that nearly send me over the edge with her.
“That’s it,” I breathe against her temple as she trembles through the aftershocks, her forehead pressed against my chest, her body shaking. “That’s it, my beautiful Mina. So perfect. So perfect for me.”
She’s panting, gasping for air, her hand still loosely wrapped around my cock. I’m achingly hard, desperate for release, and there’s a throbbing pain in my side that feels like fire spreading through my abdomen, but I refuse to acknowledge it. This moment is too perfect to ruin with complaints.
When she finally lifts her head, her eyes are dark and dazed, pupils blown wide with pleasure and something deeper that’s just for me.
I lower my head and kiss her, slow and deep, claiming her, pouring everything I feel into it. The water streams over us, washing away years of separation, fear, and misunderstanding, leaving only two people who want each other, who are choosing each other, who are finally, finally together.
Her hand tightens around my cock again, and I groan into her mouth.
“I want to be inside you,” I breathe against her lips, my hips thrusting into her grip despite the pain it causes my side. “God, Mina, I want to fuck you so badly.”
But even as I say it, my body betrays me. A sharp stab of pain lances through my abdomen, and I have to bite back a gasp.
She feels me tense and sees the agony flitting across my face. “Keep still,” she whispers, and there’s tenderness in her voice that makes my throat tight. “Let me.”
She strokes me harder, more confidently now, her fingers moving over my rigid length with more purpose. Learning the thick veins that run along my shaft, the sensitive ridge at the tip, the way I shudder when she squeezes the head.
I watch her hand work me, watch her pretty fingers move up and down, and the sight combined with the sensation is almost more than I can bear.
Her eyes drop to where the water is streaming over the plastic covering my bandage, and horror crosses her face as she realizes the edges are starting to lift.
“Oh, God. The plastic is coming loose. We’re getting your bandage wet.
Cristiano, we need to stop. You need to get out of the shower right now. ”
“Don’t you dare stop.” I catch her wrist with my free hand, keeping her palm pressed against me even as I use my other hand to brace against the wall. “Your touch is what’s healing me, Mina. Not the doctors, not the medicine. You.”
“Cristiano, that’s not how medicine works.”
“Please.” I kiss her desperately, pouring everything I feel into it. Heat and desire and the desperate hope that she’ll choose me. “Please don’t stop. I need this. I need you.”
Her eyes flutter closed, pleasure and concern warring on her face, and then her hand starts moving again. Slow at first, testing, then faster as she finds a rhythm that makes my breath come in ragged gasps.
“That’s it,” I groan, my voice raw. “Just like that. Perfect. You’re perfect.”
She watches my face as she strokes me, and I can see the exact moment she realizes the power she has over me. The way I’m completely at her mercy, unable to hide how much I need her, how desperately I want her, how thoroughly she’s destroying me.
Her lips curve into a small smile, something feminine and knowing that makes my heart stutter in my chest. “You want me so badly it drives you crazy. I can see it in your eyes.”
I palm her ass with my free hand, squeezing the soft flesh possessively, needing to claim some part of her even as she’s claiming me. “Every minute of every day, Mina. Every single minute I’m awake and most of the ones when I’m asleep.”
“I like watching you lose control, Cristiano.” Her voice is soft and wondering. “I’m the only one who can do this to you.”