Page 169 of Can't Always Get What You Want

“Maybe?” I lift a brow.

Her eyes flick to my mouth. “Fine. Yes. I like it.”

“Thought so.”

I dip down, letting my mouth graze her neck, just below her ear, where I already know she’s soft. Her fingers immediately find my shoulders—clutching, anchoring.

“Luca…” she warns, but it’s breathy and loose, not even close to convincing.

I nudge my nose along her jaw. “Hmm?”

“You keep doing that and I’m going to?—”

“What?” My voice is low now. Teasing. “Lose control?”

She lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a moan. Her hands find my chest, sliding down to my abs, fingers lingering like she’s trying to decide how much mischief she can get away with.

The answer? All of it.

I hold her by the hips and turn her so she’s facing the wall, hands braced on the tiled bench, bending forward as water pummels me in the back.

She arches back against me, fingers flexing.

Nova spreads her legs, sexy, round ass thrusting in the air so I can fit myself inside her from behind.

My cock is so fucking hard…

She glances over her shoulder, smug and gorgeous and a little breathless. “What? You’re the one who said ‘low center of gravity.’ I’m just following the game plan.”

I let out a low, strangled laugh. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Not before I ruin you.”

Delicious.

I want to eat her up, eat her out, and fuck her until the next game day.

Nova reaches through her legs and reaches for my dick, guiding me toward her pussy; placing me where she wants me to push, and I ease forward, sliding into her.

Slowly.

Surely.

So wet.

So tight.

God, I missed this…

And God willing, we have way more fucking in our future.

The water splashes as I slam into her, slapping sounds echoing in the tiled enclosure.

I place a hand at the small of her back; grip her hips to steady myself. Nova ishot and slick and perfect, and I have to fight every primal instinct to go slow—the last thing I want is to rush.

I lower my head, pressing my lips between her shoulder blades, letting them linger there. “Tell me if it’s too much,” I murmur, my voice a rasp against her skin.

“Harder…” she gasps, bracing harder against the wall. Head hanging. Hair falling in wet coils.

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