But I don’t stop.
I grip the hem of his pullover and, after a brief hesitation, he lifts his arms, allowing me to pull it over his head. My breath catches as my eyes trace the familiar lines of his stomach, the defined ridges of his abs.
My fingers trail lower, finding the zipper of his jeans.
He doesn’t stop me.
Instead, he takes over, making quick work of his pants as I hook my fingers around the waistband of his black boxer briefs. The same ones I used to tug off him without a second thought.
But this time, everything feelsdifferent.
Like we’re standing on the edge of something that, if we’re not careful, might consume us whole.
And I don’t know if I want to stop it.
Not tonight.
Not anymore.
I slide Corbin’s boxer briefs down his thighs just as his fingers find the clasp of my bra. We undress each other slowly, deliberately, like we’re peeling away the past layer by layer. Then, without a word, he opens the shower door and gestures for me to step in first.
The hot water cascades over me, but I don’t need it to warm up. I’m already burning from the way his hands skim my waist as he steps in behind me.
I turn to face him, my arms slipping around his neck as he leans in, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss is deep, slow, consuming. I press closer, my body molding to his, every inch of him igniting something in me I thought had long since burned out.
Then, without warning, he drops to his knees.
My breath catches as he grips my thigh, guiding it over his shoulder. I brace myself against the cool tile, my fingers threading through his damp hair as his mouth finds me. The first stroke of his tongue sends a shudder through me.
"Corbin," I whisper, my voice breaking as he works me with a precision only he knows.
He groans against me, the vibration sending another shockwave of pleasure through my core. His grip tightens,fingers pressing into my thighs as he pulls me closer, holding me exactly where he wants me. His tongue flicks and circles, deliberate and unrelenting, drawing me higher and higher.
My back arches against the cool tile, my breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. Every nerve in my body is on fire, tension coiling low in my stomach, growing tighter with every slow, calculated stroke of his tongue.
“Corbin,” I whimper, my fingers threading through his damp hair, holding on as the pressure builds to a breaking point.
He doubles down, lips sealing around my clit as he sucks, and the tension finally snaps. I shatter, waves of pleasure rolling through me, my thighs trembling around him as he keeps me steady, drawing every last pulse of pleasure from my body.
I sag against the wall, my limbs weak, my breath ragged. Corbin presses a lingering kiss to my inner thigh before looking up at me, his eyes dark with satisfaction.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, his voice rough with hunger. “You’re perfect.”
I barely have time to recover before he stands, his lips glistening as he presses a slow, lingering kiss against my mouth.
“More,” I say between kisses.
He lifts me effortlessly, pressing my back to the wet tile, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he positions himself at my entrance.
Corbin sinks into me, inch by inch, and my head falls back as a gasp slips free.
“Jules,” he rasps against my jaw, his hands gripping my thighs as he rolls his hips.
His thrusts start slow, wanton, each movement purposeful as he matches the rhythm of our breaths. He watches me, his blue eyes locked onto mine, as if memorizing every gasp, every shudder, every way my body responds to his. He holds me steadyagainst the slick tile as he sinks into me over and over again, dragging out every sensation, every pulse of pleasure.
But as the tension builds between us, control frays. His movements become more urgent, his restraint slipping as he drives deeper, faster. My nails dig into his shoulders, my head tipping back as a moan rips from my throat.
“Jules,” he moans, his voice strained, filled with something raw and unfiltered.
