The steam cloud squeezed closer as he moved in behind her and shut the glass door. The back of his hand ran down her spine, and she nearly purred out loud.
“I think you need some scrubbing back here,” he said, so quietly she might have missed it.
Barely moving — barely breathing — she let him pluck the bar of soap from her hand.
“Definitely need some soap back here,” he murmured, sliding it down her back.
She squeezed her lips together, trying not to groan at how good it felt. How hard it made her nipples pucker, or how eagerly it made her sex weep. She tried not to wiggle her ass at him too much and held on more tightly than before.
“Nice,” he whispered.
The realization that he was whispering to himself and not to her only stoked the inner heat higher.
“Nice,” she echoed.
The soft soap swept around her ribs and eased carefully toward her breast. His callused fingers gave just the right edge to his touch. Because soft would only last so long, she knew. Eventually, he’d go over to hard and hot, just like her body was begging him to.
His hand took the weight of her breast, and he circled her nipple, again and again. She arched, encouraging him to work both sides with both his hands while the hard length of his cock tapped impatiently at her back.
God, she wanted this man. This wolf. Wanted him like she’d never wanted anything before.
“Trey,” she whispered. “That’s so good...”
A satisfied puff of air tickled her ear, and his cock jutted harder.
“Just what I was thinking,” his husky voice promised.
His big, broad foot edged in between hers, and she spread her legs to give him space. Trey scooped a handful of the water cascading over her breast and redirected it downward, toward her mound.
“God, Trey...” she mumbled, pushing backward against his groin.
He caught another handful of water and slid lower this time. Lower...
His left arm, strong and wiry as a tree branch, wrapped around her waist as the fingers of his right hand slid between her legs. Parted her folds, rocked deeper, and teased her clit.
She threw her head back, murmuring unintelligibly.
“How’s that?” he coaxed her along. “Feel good?”
Good was not the word for the skies of heaven, opening up to her in a flash of white light.
Two fingers slid deep and curled against her inner walls until she yowled like a cat in heat.
“Yeah, that feels good.” He nodded. Not a cocky, look-at-the-power-I-wield-over-you, woman but a coo of wonder, of discovery. “And what about this?”
She stiffened as a third finger joined the first two. Gaped at the ceiling in a silent scream of pleasure she prayed he couldn’t see. A dragon ought to have some pride, right?
His left hand pushed down against her belly, and the fingers inside curved toward it, intensifying the pressure until she was howling in ecstasy. She grabbed at his hand and pushed harder.
“Faster,” she said between clenched teeth. “Deeper.”
His breath came in heavy pants, too, as he complied. Two fingers of one hand inside, with a third finger circling her clit from the other side, while she rattled and cried and shook.
“Trey!”
“Come for me, Kaya,” he said in a harsh whisper, like it was him teetering on the edge of orgasm and not her. “Come for me.”
She shut her eyes, imagining the hard push of his cock inside. Wanting to come for him, not just for herself. He scraped his teeth along her neck, and she promptly came apart.
“Trey!” Her own voice sounded hoarse and faraway, and the whole world shook as she came. Every muscle in her body shuddered in glorious, willing surrender. Wave after wave of pleasure until she was limp and weepy in his arms.
One second, she was dead tired; the next, she spun in his arms with a second wind that had her kissing him harder than she’d ever kissed anyone before. Deeper, with her tongue sweeping in greedy circles and her hands yanking his body flush against hers.
Her leg was already climbing around his, her fingers gripping tight.
“Okay, cowboy,” she panted, popping out of the kiss. “Bedtime.”
He crooked an eyebrow. “Bedtime?”
He pulled her leg higher, and for one second, she thought he’d lift her up and carry on. Which would have worked for her, too. But she wanted more than that. Needed to feel the full weight of him, powering into her.
“Yeah, bedtime. As in, me, you, and the bed.”
His fingers gripped her sides harder.
He needed convincing? She’d give him convincing. She dropped her lips to his ear and whispered in a husky voice. “Bed. As in, hot and hard enough to make a missionary blush.”
She dropped to her feet as a knowing grin spread across his face.
“Sounds good to me,” he murmured, pushing the shower door ajar. “Sounds good to me.”
*