His hands, which had been pinning mine and then tangled in my hair, now slid down my back, pressing me flush against him. I could feel the rigid truth of him pressing against my belly, a constant, burning reminder of the power dynamic that had shifted so drastically in mere moments. The carefully constructed walls I'd built around myself were crumbling, brick by brick, under the onslaught of his primal desire and my own desperate, unexpected response.
He released my mouth, only to trail a path of fiery kisses down my throat again, pausing to nip at the pulse point that hammered erratically beneath my skin. I whimpered, a sound that was both pain and pleasure, a surrender I hadn't anticipated making.
His grip on my hair tightened, forcing me to turn, the tiles biting into my bare stomach as he pressed me flush against the wall. Steam curled around us, obscuring everything but the heat of his body at my back. His breath, ragged and hot, skated along my spine as his hands trailed down my sides—slow, possessive—before gripping my hips hard enough to bruise.
"Arch."
A command, not a request.
I didn't answer him, and he pressed up against me, his chest to my back, and took my hands in his to place them against the tiled surface. I leaned my forehead against the cool surface, my breath coming in small pants with anticipation.
His lips skimmed the sensitive skin of my neck. He whispered huskily in my ear. "This is going to be rough, sweetheart."
A shiver ran down my spine as his hand slid down between my thighs, teasing at the edge of my folds. "You sure you can handle it?" he murmured.
"I can take whatever you give me," I replied, voice shaky with desire.
He chuckled softly. "We'll see about that."
And before I could retort—before I could even breathe—he dropped to his knees.
His large hands gripped my thighs high, spreading them wide without warning, fingers firm and unrelenting as he opened me completely. The cool air hit my wet heat for just a second—
The first touch of his lips to my skin sent a jolt through me. He started at the back of my knee, leaving a trail of kisses up the back of my thigh. I felt his breath on my wet folds, and my body clenched in anticipation. As he gripped my hips firmly, pulling them back against his face.
A groan tore from his throat before he even touched me. "Fucking drenched," he growled—like it offended him how ready I was.
Then—he buried his face between my legs.
A moan tore from my throat as his tongue dragged up through my folds in one long, filthy stroke—slow at first, savoring the taste—and then faster, harder as if trying to devour me alive. He spread me wider with his large hands, fingers digging into bare cheeks as he licked deeper… lower… circling that tight back entrance with teasing flicks.
The intimacy was shocking, but my body responded eagerly, my arousal building with every passing moment.
He didn't stop.
Didn't slow down.
Just ate me like a man possessed—with lips and teeth and tongue claiming every wet inch of me like it belonged to him now.
And God help me—I let him believe it did.
I moaned, my legs trembling.
"That's it," he growled against my flesh. "Let me hear you."
I bit my lip, refusing.
His fingers dug into my hips, punishing. "Or should I stop?"
A threat wrapped in velvet.
"No—" The word tore from me before I could stop it.
He smirked—I could feel it—before his mouth descended again, this time with a new kind of brutality. His tongue flicked over my clit, fast and ruthless, while his fingers slid lower, circling my ass.
When he touched my anus, I tensed, the sensation foreign but not unwelcome. He circled it gently with his tongue, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. The touch was unexpected, but it sent a spark of pleasure through me.
He laughed, the vibration coursing through me like lightning. "You like that, sweetheart?"
I didn't answer. Couldn't.
I was torn between my body's response and my mind's hesitation, but he didn't give me time to process.
My hands fisted against the wall as he continued his assault, alternating between deep licks and soft nips. He was relentless.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he growled between strokes. "You taste so damn good, I could eat you all night."
I couldn't form words—just sounds spilled out: broken moans, sharp breaths—all evidence of how thoroughly he was unraveling me.
Then his fingers joined in—one sliding through my soaked folds before pressing gently into my core while his tongue worked magic on that tight little ring behind it.
I cried out—the dual sensation overwhelming—my legs trembling under the strain of staying upright.
He didn't give me a moment to adjust. He curled and twisted his fingers, stretching me open, preparing me for what was next. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, he stopped.
Standing behind me, his chest to my back, he leaned down and whispered in my ear: "Ready for more?"
He scooped me off the ground—as if I weighed nothing, his hands on my thighs to keep me steady. He spun me around to face him—the room blurring—then pushed me against the wall again, but this time facing him.
His gaze bore into me, dark and possessive.
Then—he dropped to his knees, pulling me down with him until I was straddling his shoulders—my back to the wall, my legs wrapped awkwardly around his neck.
The position was obscene—my thighs spread wide over his shoulders, my hips canting forward helplessly as his mouth found me again. I gasped, my spine arching off the wall, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the slick tiles. The room was thick with steam, our bodies slick with it, but nothing compared to the heat between my legs—the relentless pull of his tongue as he worked me toward the edge.
"Ngh~" I choked out, my voice raw.
His only response was a dark chuckle, vibrations rippling through my core. He hooked one of my legs over his shoulder, tilting me open even wider, and then—
He stopped.
A whimper escaped me before I could swallow it, my body trembling with unspent tension. He pulled back just far enough to meet my gaze, lips glistening with my arousal, eyes black with hunger.
"Beg," he commanded, his voice rough.
My pride flared, but my body—my traitorous body—was already surrendering.
"Please." The word was a whisper, a fracture in my carefully constructed control.
His smirk was ruthless. "Louder."
"Please," I repeated, louder now, my nails biting into his shoulders.
"Please what?"
I swallowed, my thighs trembling around him. "Please don't stop."
A sharp exhale—almost a laugh—before his mouth descended again, this time with a single-minded intensity that had me crying out within seconds. He hooked an arm under one leg and pulled me down harder onto his face, burying himself in me like he wanted to swallow every sound I made.
I couldn't hold back anymore.
Moans spilled from my lips—shameless and raw—as he devoured me from below, his hands holding me open for him like I was nothing but pleasure waiting to be taken.
His tongue flicked mercilessly over my clit, his fingers plunging deep inside me, curling just right—until my vision splintered, until my body clamped down around him, pleasure searing through me like wildfire.
I came with a broken gasp.
He didn't let me come down. The moment the last tremor faded, he was up, pressing me against the wall once more, his body a solid line of heat against mine. His breath was ragged against my ear, his big monster an insistent pressure against my stomach.
"That's one," he murmured, nipping at my earlobe. "How many more do you think you can take?"
I blinked up at him. Still dazed. My body thrumming with aftershocks. "What?"