Out Of The Blue (The Wrong Bed #12)(33)

"You heard me." Now he nudged closer, big and strong and undeniably male. She couldn't look away from him, both enthralled and even a little frightened. How had this happened, how had her feelings for him become so … huge?

He must have seen some of her fear. "Don't ever be afraid of me," he whispered, brushing her dripping hair out of her eyes. His hands were gentle as he stroked them down her body. "I won't hurt you this time."

He was referring to her lost virginity, but that had hardly hurt, and even then, only for a flash. No, what she was afraid of was what he made her feel. "You didn't hurt me."

His eyes glittered. "No?"

"No," she whispered.

The heat of the water had a swirl of steam surrounding them, and Hannah felt her senses take over, as if it was all a dream. A dream making her body quiver, a dream making her arch toward him in acquiescence.

Zach bent to kiss her, slow and deep. Without hesitation, she opened her mouth, kissing him back with everything she had, and he groaned. His grip on her tightened, and the kiss went wild with urgency. She felt his callused palms sliding up her thighs, felt him shudder as his hand moved over her bare buttocks, his fingers caressing her.

With every movement, he taught her more about pleasure, more about herself than she could have imagined, and she moved against him, lost in the sensual haze. Then she felt herself lifted, pressed back against the tile wall, held in place by Zach's body.

He lifted his head, his expression dark and passionate. "This isn't for curiosity's sake, or because you're tired of not knowing what pleasure is like," he grated out. "This isn't to get out of toilet duty, or to satisfy some bet. This is because I can't stop thinking about you, about your laugh, your voice, your everything, and I want it to be the same for you."

So intense, so sure. It should have terrified her all the more. Instead, it soothed her. "It's the same for me," she whispered.

He looked at her for a long moment, while her heart jerked painfully in her chest. Then, finally, he bent and kissed her, then bent further and drew a nipple into his mouth, causing her to gasp and arch as heat spread through her. He shifted, covering her other breast with his rough palm. And when his fingers trailed down over her quivering belly, she could hardly stand it because she remembered how he'd made her feel last time, as if she was flying off a cliff without a net.

Suddenly she was in a hurry to feel that way again, because she knew he would catch her, he'd always catch her. His fingers slid lower, lower still, and touched her, evoking a small, helpless sound.

"Do you like that?"

Hard to believe she could get this far with him and suddenly be torn between ecstasy and embarrassment.

"Hannah?" He stopped the magic with his fingers and a whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it.

"Yes," she managed. "But…"

"But?"

"It was dark last time."

"You've seen me before, several times now."

"But … you haven't seen me."

"I want to," he murmured. "I want to see everything—the way your body flushes, the way your nipples go all tight and pouty, the way you pant for air and look at me with that glazed, helpless expression. You drive me wild, Hannah, and I want to see all of it. All of you."

He was touching her again, light, feathery touches over swollen and wet ultrasensitive flesh. Unable to stop herself, she writhed against his hand, and when he pressed open her legs, so that they wrapped around his hips, her head began to swim. She dug her fingers into the muscles of his arms and clung to his hard, warm, welcoming body, unable to believe how close to that edge of the cliff she already was. "Zach…"

"I know. I know— Ahh." He sank a finger into her, making her cry out, and mindless now, she rocked her hips, frantic need slamming into her in relentless waves.

He entered her then, slowly, inch by inch, letting her body accommodate his, letting the heat and pleasure and desperate need intensify. He deepened the kiss as he thrust, pushing deep within her, burying himself to the hilt. "Oh baby," he whispered, and thrust again.

It was so powerful, so raw and … perfect. There was tension and unbearable excitement clouding her thoughts, but even through them Hannah knew, this was different, what they had couldn't be found with anyone else.

The water cooled slightly, but it didn't matter, they had more than enough heat between them, and sliding her fingers into his silky hair, she cradled him with her arms and legs, pouring everything she had into the moment, knowing she'd never really lived before now.

The shower thundered over them, their hearts roared as one. Low moans mixed with soft cries. Slick skin against slick skin. Her hips undulated against his as she strained with him toward completion, consumed by the fever of it all.

She felt him shudder and groan, and felt a surge of power at making this strong man so weak with the wanting.

"Come for me now," he urged, gripping her hips, lifting her for a more perfect fit. "Hannah, now … I can't hold back—"

It didn't matter.

Her senses and body exploded in the sweetest, wildest pleasure imaginable, and she cried out.

On and on it went, unending, and she thought she might even fall, but Zach somehow managed to hold on to her even as his own cry matched hers, his body convulsing as he met his own climax.