Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
"Don't stop," I urged, my voice barely audible above the rush of water.
His gaze locked with mine as he rose to his feet, water sluicing down his powerful frame. The cloth traveled over the curve of my hips, across my stomach, up to the undersides of my breasts. His touch remained gentle but had shifted, becoming more of a caress than a cleansing. I reached for him, needing an anchor against the tide of sensation threatening to pull me under. The soapy cloth traveled higher, circling my breasts, leaving trails of bubbles that the water quickly washed away. When it passed over my nipples, I couldn't suppress a small moan, my body arching toward his touch despite the lingering aches.
"Belle," he breathed my name like a prayer. "You've been through hell today. You sure you’re up for this?"
In answer, I stepped closer, eliminating the space between us. Our bodies slid together, slick with water and soap, and I felt his restraint crack like ice in spring thaw. The cloth dropped forgotten to the shower floor as his hands found my waist, pulling me flush against him. "I need you," I confessed, the words torn from somewhere deep and primal within me. "I need to feel alive. To feel like I belong to you.”
His lips descended on mine, tasting of water and mint and man. The kiss started gentle but quickly blazed into something desperate and consuming. He slid his hands down my back to grip my hips, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around his waist, ankles crossing at the small of his back as he pressed me against the cool marble wall. The contrast of temperatures sent fresh shivers racing through me.
"Tell me if I hurt you," he demanded against my lips, his voice rough with restraint.
"You won't," I promised, trusting him completely. It hit me then. I trusted Dario with my life. Trusting him with my heart was becoming harder and harder to resist. I wanted this fairy tale he dangled in front of me. Not because of his money. Dario had proven to be a very interesting person, one who knew how to keep me dangling on the edge waiting for the next crumb of himself he gave me. I lapped up everything hungrily. It helped me to see he felt the same way I did.
Dario entered me in one smooth thrust, filling me so perfectly that tears sprang to my eyes, mingling with the shower spray on my cheeks. I dug my nails into his shoulders as I clung to him, needing the anchor of his solid frame. He moved with careful restraint at first, mindful of my bruised body, but I wanted none of his caution. I tightened my legs around him, moving on him and urging him deeper, faster.
"Please," I gasped, the word lost in the steam that fogged the glass around us, creating a world where only we existed. "I won't break. I need you to make me feel alive, Dario!"
Something wild flashed in his eyes then, a glimpse of the predator beneath the civilized exterior. His fingers dug into my hips as he gripped me tighter, his movements growing more forceful as water cascaded over us both. One of his hands slid between our bodies, finding the center of my pleasure with unerring accuracy. His thumb circled in perfect counterpoint to his thrusts, building a tension within me that threatened to shatter me completely.
"That's it," he encouraged, watching my face with fierce concentration as I approached the edge. "Come for me, Belle. Let me feel you squeezing my cock."
My orgasm hit with unexpected force, tearing a cry from my throat as my body contracted around him. My nails dug deeper into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks that would match the ones he'd left on my hips. He followed me moments later, his rhythm faltering as he buried his face against my neck, a guttural sound rumbling through his chest.
For long moments afterward, we stayed locked together, the shower continuing to rain down warm water that cascaded over us in a gentle caress. My legs trembled as he lowered me carefully to my feet, his hands steady on my waist to keep me upright. Without speaking, he reached for the shampoo, working it through my tangled hair with gentle fingers that massaged my scalp. The mundane act felt impossibly intimate after what we'd just shared.
As the water rinsed away the last of the soap and shampoo, Dario traced the angles of my face with his fingertips, his expression unreadable. "You're mine," he said simply, the words a statement of fact rather than a question. "Whatever comes next, remember that."
I nodded, understanding that what had happened between us was about more than physical release. It was a claiming, a promise, a defiance against those who had tried to use me to hurt him. In his arms, with water washing away the last traces of fear and pain, I felt not just clean but renewed.