“Put your hands flat against the wall,” he commanded.
Her belly dipped to her toes. Swallowing, shyness long forgotten under burning need, she obeyed. He eased her legs apart and adjusted the sprays so each one hit her nipple, and a softer mist drenched her stomach, rivulets trickling down the crease of her legs and over her clit with a light teasing touch.
He tugged her wet hair to the side and bit her earlobe. “I have a surprise for you.”
“I bet you do.”
He chuckled, kneading her ass. She felt him move away, then he was wrapping his arm around her waist, holding her tight. Suddenly a low buzzing cut through the air. She froze, trying to turn, but he kept her still.
Oh, my God.
He had her vibrator.
The steam had nothing on the flush that hit her cheeks and body in sheer embarrassment. She’d panicked after the movers had left, realizing she’d left it hidden in her bathroom cabinet where anyone could find it. After unpacking, she’d been horrified to realize it was gone. She’d tried not to think of the missing article, telling herself it had probably just been thrown out by mistake.
Her husband had it the whole time.
“Where did you get that?” she squeaked, still trying to fight his grip.
His low laugh caused wicked shivers to race down her spine. Her clit pounded for attention. “Let’s just say I had it for safekeeping. It did bring up some interesting questions, though. For instance, do you like using a vibrator in the shower rather than the bedroom? Or was it strictly for noise-level reasons?”
She was going to die.
Sydney shook her head, face hot, and refused to answer. He ran his tongue down her neck and moved the hot pink vibrator down her belly to trace the line of her pubic hair, running ever so lightly over her throbbing center.
She stiffened, her hips arching of their own accord. “Why are you doing this to me?” she moaned. “I can’t answer that.”
“Sure you can. And I’m doing this because I’ve been fantasizing about playing with your toy for too damn long.” He ran the buzzing head up and down, then in small circles until her fingers curled and she rose on tiptoes, desperately trying to get closer. “Now, tell me.”
“I—I like it in the shower. Plus, Becca’s bedroom was right next to mine, and I didn’t want her to hear.”
“Understood. You won’t have to worry about any noise tonight—this room is practically soundproof.” He played with her breasts, still moving the vibrator in a steady pattern. “Besides, I intend to make you scream very, very loud tonight, baby.”
“Oh, God.”
“Oh, yes.” With one quick thrust, he took her from behind, his cock buried deep into her wet, swollen channel. She gasped, pushing back against him for more, caught between the need to get closer to the vibrator and the ache in her body for him to fill. He chuckled with satisfaction, slowly pushing in and out of her with steady strokes, then laid the toy right against her clit.
She jerked with sharp waves of pleasure.
He removed the vibrator.
“Tristan.”
He started the torture over again. Deep thrusts in and out. Vibrator rotating in small circles. She cried and begged, and he finally pressed the pink toy against her hard nub.
She grasped for the climax, hovering with shattering, brutal tension.
He removed his hand again.
Panting for breath, going mad from the sexual torture, she let out a keening wail, bending over to force himself to bury deeper inside her. “Damn you,” she whispered. “Take me now.”
“I want you to scream.”
He plunged inside her and held the vibrator at the highest setting directly against her clit.
She climaxed. She screamed. She bucked as the shattering release poured through her. He forced her to ride out the very last convulsions, then picked up her shaking body. Quickly drying her off, he carried her to the bed and laid her down gently. His knees straddled her as he climbed onto the mattress and pressed a kiss to her lips. Her lids closed, the satisfying weight of her orgasm making her limbs weak. She felt her legs drift apart, and the hard tip of his cock poised at her dripping entrance, ready to fill her.
“Look at me, baby.”
She did.
Whiskey-colored eyes blazed with fierce possession and male satisfaction. Jaw tight, lips set in a thin line, he shook with primal lust, barely contained by his usual control. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded.
And suddenly she didn’t care anymore about holding back or being safe. Her entire being pulsed with the need to give him the truth. “You,” she whispered. “I can’t fight this any longer.” She reached up and gripped his hair, looking deep into his eyes. “I love you, Tristan. I just want you.”
The words ripped through the air. Tristan held himself over her in perfect stillness, breath coming out in ragged pants, sweat gleaming from his brow, his gaze piercing into those gorgeous emerald eyes, naked with raw emotion, stripped of all barriers.
Everything inside shifted, cracked open, and poured out of his soul.
She loved him.
In one swift movement, he pushed her legs up and claimed her in one hard thrust.
He pressed his forehead to hers, his entire body shuddering as he fought for control. Buried to the hilt, he felt her squeeze his cock mercilessly with her wet heat, and her nails dug deep into his shoulders, drawing blood. He clutched her hips, holding her in place as he pinned her to the mattress, his hungry gaze devouring her face, devouring her submission.
Her name sighed from his lips.
Then he moved.
He fucked her with total abandon, giving her as much as she gave him, claiming her completely with each hard, deep stroke. Lowering his head, he took her mouth, plunging his tongue inside the silky wet cave, drunk on the taste of her. Her body tightened underneath him, and she cried out in a throaty gasp he swallowed whole. When she shattered completely, he threw his head back and roared with abandon, emptying his seed, jerking helplessly from the brutal release.
Afterward, he held her tight, his hand stroking her hair. They lay in the darkness, not speaking, limbs entangled, breath mingling together.
She loved him.
He couldn’t deny how the words affected him. His soul practically shuddered with satisfaction and the knowledge they belonged together. There’d never been another woman in his life who completed him. Each one before was a shadow of Sydney, a reminder of what he’d never be able to have again.
But now he could.
It was as if she’d held the secret part of his heart for all these years and had given it back tonight.
She waited for him to return the words and end the complicated game they’d been playing for too long. He needed to tell her he loved her.
The declaration hovered on his lips, just like it had that night eight years ago, when she asked him for something bigger. Something to make her go with him. Something to make him stay.
And once again, he said nothing.