Chapter 34
SHAY
I run to the front door before the car comes to a complete stop and fumble with my key to get the darn thing open.
Kolton presses up behind me and weaves his fingers through my hair, tugging hard enough to turn my face to his.
His tongue invades my mouth, muddling my senses, his lips hungry on mine.
When my key clicks in place, I pull away and stumble inside the house. He reaches for me, but I push at his chest, waiting and listening for Stella.
“Continue with your coupling,” she calls from upstairs. “Jackson’s asleep.”
Before Kolton can resume his groping, I hurry ahead.
He may have pulled out all the stops with his candy bouquet—left, sadly, on the front seat of the car—but I have my own plans for this evening.
Yesterday, I passed by the sauna in the lower level and couldn’t stop imagining Kolton’s slippery skin sliding over mine. I set the timer before leaving tonight.
“Come to our room,” he says as I head for the stairs.
Breathless with anticipation, I stay my course. I grip the banister and descend, nearly tripping in my rush. Kolton’s hot on my heels, a step behind.
When we make it to the bottom, he snakes his arm around my waist. “You’re naughty tonight,” he says as he palms my breast.
My nipples pebble instantly. “You haven’t seen naughty yet. In honor of me being open to new things, I’m in charge tonight.”
“Not sure how long you think I’ll let that fly, but I’ll play along. For now.”
He sneaks in another squeeze, then releases his hold on me. I cross the hardwood floor and run my hand along the pool table in the center of the living space. I don’t have to glance behind to know he’s following; heat suffuses my back.
Soon, it will get even warmer.
When I reach the sauna door, I don’t stop. I don’t strip down. I walk in fully clothed.
A breathy “Jesus” comes from Kolton.
I hear him seal the door, and I flip around. In seconds, his shirt clings to his body, the lines of his pecs defined under the damp cotton.
Sweat gathers on his face. “I don’t think I can let you take control in here, Shay. It’s too much.” He shakes his head as if to clear it, his eyes locking on my white tank top, the moist fabric no longer leaving much to the imagination.
Neither of us move.
Heat seeps into my bones, dense and heavy, until it’s hard to stand.
The sauna is big enough for six people, but Kolton’s presence crowds me. Overwhelms me. And I need this. If I’m going to be with him, shatter the last of my defenses, I need to know I can control him, too. Own him. Because I think I’m finally ready to let go.
I grab the large sponge from the water bucket and squeeze it over the hot stones. Steam billows, filling the sultry air and shooting the temperature up to scorching. My hair drips down my back.
Instead of answering him, I say, “Strip, but don’t touch me.”
One beat. Two.
Cedar and eucalyptus invade my nose on each deep inhale.
Jaw tight, he finally peels off his wet shirt, and my eager moans fill the room.
Fit but lean, his body is a thing of beauty: broad chest with the perfect amount of hair, abs so defined I could wash my very wet underwear on them (while worn), and narrow hips that point to the treasure at the end of this hunt.
He undoes his belt buckle, and I thank God for the millionth time that Kolton flies commando.
His cock springs from his jeans.
Once his denim is off, he steps toward me, but I hold up my hand.
My tank top and skirt are a second skin, suctioned to my body. I remove the sodden layers, then my bra and underwear, until I’m bare before him. I move close enough that my breasts skim his chest. He sucks in a sharp breath. Like a good boy, though, he doesn’t touch me.
I press my lips to his ear. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall.”
He flexes his fingers. “I’ll watch a week straight of romantic comedies if I can put my hands somewhere else.”
Tempting, but I step away and douse the stones with more water.
More steam. More heat.
It’s almost suffocating. As stifling as the emotion gathering in my chest. I wish he could see how fast my heart is beating, how full it is with unsaid words. Love. Joy. Respect. Devotion.
Finally, I’m ready for it all.
With a grunt, he turns around and fans his palms on the wood wall, giving me complete control and the view I’ve imagined ceaselessly.
Rivulets of sweat drip down his skin, hours of karate and rock climbing having cut grooves through which the liquid flows.
I could stare at his strong back and shoulders forever, but it’s his booty that’s making it hard to blink.
Toned and taut and rising in plump perfection, glistening in the warm light.
The Sistine Chapel of butts.
Still facing the wall, Kolton shifts his feet, his frustration evident in his bunched muscles.
I run my hand down the length of my wet hair. “I think I need to get a camera.”
He drops his head forward. “If you leave here, I’m dragging you back and locking the door.”
Point taken.
His ass flexes, and I can’t maintain my distance any longer, can barely keep from telling him how hard I’ve fallen.
I come up behind him, wet and slippery, and press my breasts against his back, sucking a trail from shoulder to shoulder. I glide my hands around his ribs, charting the map that leads to his treasure trail and my treasure. So slick. So hard.
I grip him, and a pained “fuck” tears from his throat while I slide every inch of my drenched body along his back.
“Did you touch yourself while we were apart?” I ask. “Did you picture me when you came?”
He thrusts into my hand, and I bite his shoulder, salt invading my tongue. “You know I did,” he says. His fingers claw the wood. “With those fucking torn panties.”
“I’d love to watch you.” I’m drenched…everywhere, searching for some relief by rubbing my most sensitive spot on his backside. I won’t be able to play the role of seductress much longer.
“I’ll put on a show, baby. But not tonight. Tonight, I need to be inside you.”
He moves to face me, but I stop him with a stern, “Don’t you dare.”
Still behind him, I grip his dick tighter and he curses, then he moves with my steady strokes, getting harder, breathing heavier.
But there’s more of him to explore. Releasing him, I kiss every inch of his back and the expanse of his shoulder blades while I knead his strong thighs with my hands, making my way lower, and lower, until I’m on my knees, worshipping his glorious ass.
“Turn around,” I say, my voice tight with desire. I want to have him in my mouth, to show him just how hot he makes me.
He does as instructed, but the second he turns my desire blooms into something else.
His dark eyes shine down at me with so much vulnerability I want to gather him to my chest and hold on forever. Never let go.
He touches my soaked hair and drags his hands to my cheeks, keeping me back from wrapping my lips around him. “Shay…I…”
I hold my breath, wait for him to say what I think he’s about to say—the same words lodged in my throat. I love you. He swallows instead. Something sharper passes through his eyes, but he quickly blinks.
Then he takes control.
He pulls me up and crushes me to him. Skin slides. Lips bruise. Sweat pools at our feet. He walks us toward the bench and sits, reaching for my hips. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”
His demand inflames me. Sometimes sex with Kolton is sweet and slow, sometimes rough and raw, but he’s always holding, pressing, clutching. At night, with him, I let go physically, and I shoot off like a rocket.
How intense will it be now that I’ve opened my heart, too?
I secure my legs around him, and he lifts my backside. With one swift move of my hips, he’s inside me and…wow. My oh God mingles with his Jesus as we press closer together.
“So hot,” I say. “So wet.”
“So perfect,” he replies. “But don’t move yet.”
His mouth travels down my neck and over each breast, the sweat and heat melting us together. My hands are in his hair, on his shoulders, his back. I rotate my hips, grinding against his pelvis. Then we’re moving.
Our wet lips collide as I pull back and crash onto him. Over. And over.
Groaning cuts off our Gods and fucks. The temperature skyrockets, the heat between my thighs threatening to ignite, the pressure in my chest just as volatile.
He slows us down. Speeds us up. Always in control. Always with his mouth on me, whispered words I can’t hear dripping down my skin, my silent confessions of love sliding down his. I ride the edge of pleasure, rising and falling, until, without warning, I fall apart.
I toss my head back, and he drives into me while guiding my hips, knowing I’m nearly boneless from the heat and the high.
Then he joins me, my name like a prayer on his lips.
I latch my loose limbs around him, and he buries his face in my neck, still connected, the scents of cedar and eucalyptus mingling with the smell of sex.
My pulse doesn’t slow, though. The vulnerable organ continues to thunder. Not from the heat. Not from the exertion. Because this was it. Everything. Whatever happens from here on out, my heart is his.