Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(76)

He touched his hand to her infinity tattoo again. “Not all scars are bad memories.”

She locked her arms around his neck and tugged his face down to meet hers. Then her lips were on his, slanting over his mouth and kissing him deeply while he sought purchase on her hips. Her tongue plundered, tangled with his as rivulets of water ran into his ears, down his throat, and dripped from his lips to hers. She tasted minty from toothpaste, and like Sofie—like hope, and care, and every part of her was turning him on.

He didn’t think, only reacted. Reacted to the way she pressed her body against his, the way all her soft, warm flesh felt under his kneading palms. She freed one hand and reached for his cock, stroking him slowly. His mouth dropped open and for a moment he forgot how to work his tongue.

“Want you.” She stroked him again.

His arms were steel around her as he pushed her back against the smooth, tiled wall of the shower. Both hands cupping her ass, he pried his lips off hers to turn his head. There was a sprayer in here that should be just the right height for what he wanted…

Finding it, he slid her down the wall a few inches until—

“Oh!” Her eyes flew open, her butt cheeks clinching beneath his palms.

“Stay there. Lean back,” he instructed.

Watching him with wide green eyes, she did as she was told, which was amazing, because she never did anything he told her to do. But the sensations the water pressure was causing on a certain part of her body must have been worth it, because her eyes slid to half-mast. With the water doing its work, he thumbed her nipples and kissed her deeply. She moaned and the vibration slid down his throat and radiated off his spine. He explored the length of her neck with his tongue, nudging her head back with his nose. Impatiently, her hips wiggled.

Yeah, she liked this a lot.

Continuing to roll one nipple between his fingers, he slid his other hand between her folds until he found her clit. This might be his favorite part of her. That tiny spot of perfection packed the biggest punch. The most bang for his buck. He knew, after being between her legs last night, that she reacted to the slightest—

“Oh God!” She jerked her head back again, her face pulled into a beautiful mask of pleasure-and-pain. He continued torturing her, slipping along her silken skin until her cries turned to muffled whimpers and her teeth dug into her plush bottom lip. His hand left the nipple he’d been rolling between thumb and forefinger to catch her when her knees gave out. And they did. A few strokes later, Sofie gave him her weight. He supported her, while her arms around his neck held on tight.

He kissed her ear and whispered, “You are gorgeous when you come.”

Hands on her ass, he lifted her so that her back rested against the wall and her thighs wrapped around his hips. He positioned himself at her entrance.

“Now let’s see you do it again,” he said, sliding home.

A sharp cry rang from her throat as he encased himself in her liquid heat.

“Can’t,” she argued, clinging to his shoulders.

“Yeah, sweetheart, you can.” He slid in and out smoothly, given how she was wet and ready for him. The high, tight sounds in her throat had started already. “Told you.”

He grinned, loving the feel of her wrapped around him absolutely everywhere. Loved the way her nipples abraded his chest, the way her hands pulled at the ends of his hair. Loved the way her ankles ground into his back, hard enough to cause bruises, urging him to continue.

Their shared breaths echoed off the shower walls, blending in with the sound of water spraying in every direction. He pumped into her, encouraging her with his words.

“Come.”

It wasn’t fancy; he just told her what he wanted.

“Come for me, Scampi.” He drove into her again. “Come, baby.”

He didn’t know how long he repeated his request—until his legs had grown tired and the water had gone cool. Still, he did not give up. When she went over, she did it with a full body shudder, locking her arms around him. Her lips on his ear, she moaned and pleaded. And the feel of her warm breath, the sound of those pleas and cries, and knowing he took her there, that she’d obeyed his commands, were what he needed to reach his own climax.

His release shot down his arms and legs, across his back, making the water feel electrified as it pierced his skin.

Holding himself and her, he turned his back to the shower wall, then slid down, keeping hold of her hips. When his butt hit the floor, he rested his head against the wall, his legs and arms spent. He caught his breath and opened his eyes, his lashes fluttering to keep out the cool water spraying around them. Didn’t help. Water blurred the scene in front of him, blurred Sofie’s face.

Even blurry, he could make out her smile, her honest emerald eyes. He was inside her, wrapped in her from head to toe.

And right now, she was everything he needed.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO




Exhaustion never felt so grand.

Currently, Sofie was battling her well-earned tiredness with her third cup of rainforest-certified coffee. She could get used to being oversexed, sleep-deprived, and caffeinated. Yes. Yes, she could.

Donovan made a huge avocado bacon omelet for breakfast. They shared it, hovering over the countertop, feeding each other bites. She was wearing one of Donovan’s T-shirts, a strange match for the prim pencil skirt, and was scuttling around in a pair of his socks. The weather may be warming up, but the floors of the mansion had not received the memo.