She palmed his cock, lined him up, and whispered, “Give it to me. All of it, Elliot. Don’t be gentle.”
He should have slowed it down, asked her if she was sure, asked himself ifhewas sure, because he would be the one walking away from this with a broken heart.
But all rational thought had fled.
He braced her thighs open and slid into her in one hard, claiming thrust. She was so fucking tight, so wet, that he could barely get all the way in at first. Her breath caught, fingernails cutting crescent moons into his shoulders.
He pulled back, slow, letting her feel every inch, and then fucked into her again, harder. Her head thumped the tile, and she gasped, but didn’t flinch. If anything, she bore down, taking him even deeper.
“More,” she gasped. “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”
He withdrew all the way and turned her so that she was braced on her knees, facing the wall.
Rue arched her back, pushed her ass out, and looked at him over her shoulder. “C’mon, Wilde. Pull my goddamn hair and fuck me like you mean it. I want to feel you tomorrow.”
He gripped her hips and slammed into her—no preamble, no apology, just a rough, relentless thrust that made her shout. The bench creaked under them, and she braced herself on the slick tile, fingers splayed as if to claw her way through the fucking wall. He set a brutal rhythm, hips pinning her in place, the slap of flesh on flesh echoing off the cracked tile. Her pussy gripped him like a vise, clenching down with every stroke, and when he reached up and dug his hand in her hair, she let out a laugh so wild and raw it made his balls tighten.
“You like being fucked like this?” he asked, voice shredded.
“God, yes. Harder. Fuck me like you mean it.”
He set his jaw and gave her exactly what she asked for. He fucked her hard—no hesitation, no mercy. She moaned and egged him on with every piston of his hips, her ass colliding with him at just the right angle, the sound obscene even over the still-running water. Her slick heat milked him, and every time he bottomed out she snarled his name like it was a challenge.
He didn’t hold back. He braced one hand against the tile above her, the other digging into her hip to keep her steady while he drove into her over and over. The slap of bodies and the wet, filthy sounds echoed through the shower. Each thrust sent a jolt straight up his spine, coiling pressure at the base of his skull. Herskin was hot and slick under his hands, her muscles tightening with every rough stroke.
He reached around and rubbed her clit, hard circles, just the way she liked it. She arched and bucked, pushing back onto his cock like she was trying to buck him off.
“You fucking savage,” she panted. “You going to come in me, Elliot? Is that what you want? Fill me up and see if I can still walk after?”
That nearly undid him, and he had to grit his teeth, sweat running cold down his temples. He pumped her harder, chasing the edge.
“Do it,” she groaned. “I want to feel you dripping out of me all night. Ruin me, Wilde. Make it impossible for me to forget you.”
He slammed into her, every muscle in his body burning, every nerve screaming for release. She clamped down on him, hips jutting back to meet every thrust, and when she came again, it was violent—her hands scrabbling at the wall, her body going rigid, then shuddering as a fresh wave of wetness coated his cock.
He couldn’t hold out any longer. He drove into her so deep he saw stars and let go of everything he’d been holding back since the first moment he realized he loved her. Her moan filled the room as he spilled inside her, the pulse of it wracking him with shudder after shudder until he collapsed over her back, both of them panting, sweating, wrecked.
For a minute, maybe longer, all he could do was stare at the wall, forehead pressed into the cool tile, breathing in the smell of sex and steam and Rue. His limbs felt hollowed out, emptied, but she was still braced beneath him, solid and alive. He wrapped his arms around her middle, just to anchor himself.
He didn’t let go, not even after the trembling in Rue’s body faded. He pressed her back flush to his chest, supporting her with one arm around her belly, the other trapping her handswhere they’d slid to grip the bench for dear life. Her breathing was ragged, her shoulders shivering with exhausted aftershocks, and he just stood there, buried in her, feeling the slow drip of sweat track down his spine as the adrenaline ebbed.
“That was—” she started, but words seemed to escape her.
“Stupid?” he suggested, reality seeping through the after-sex haze. He withdrew from her, the slide of their bodies making them both hiss, and stared down at his still half-hard cock, glistening with her juices.
They hadn’t used protection.
They’d gotten their clothes wet when they had nothing dry to change into.
There was no plan for what happened next, no clue how to fix this fucked up situation.
Rue turned toward him and rolled her eyes. “I’m on birth control.”
“That’s not what I was worried ab?—”
She shushed him with a finger to his lips. “This is the best I’ve felt in months, Wilde. Don’t ruin it by overthinking.”
“It’s my job to protect you,” he grumbled. “I’m not overthinking.”
