Page 50 of Boiling Point
“I want you inside me,” she repeated, breath catching as I circled her clit.
“Again,” I said, watching her shudder from nothing but my hand and will.
She took hold of me, eyes blazing, and guided me exactly where she wanted. “I’ll say anything you want if it gets you inside me.”
I thrust in, smooth and deep. She squeezed me like a vise—tight, slick, and ready for everything I had. I gripped her hips and drove in harder, faster, losing myself in the rhythm that consumed us. She arched against the tiles, meeting every thrust—a perfect counterpoint to my own urgency.
“Is this what you wanted?” My voice came out rough as she pulled me in deeper.
“More,” she moaned, nails biting into my shoulders.
Steam swirled as we moved together, slick and seamless, an impossible cadence of thrusts and replies. I was drowning in the feel of her skin against mine, of her heat enveloping me with every push.
“You feel…” She exhaled sharply. “So damned good.”
“Then let me make you feel even better.” I pulled out, spun her around, and pressed her down onto the bench. She caught herself with her palms, wet hair a cascade of gold. Hands locked firm at her waist, I thrust in from behind in one swift motion, the angle sharp and exquisite. Her yelp was pure delight, the sound careening off the tiles and straight into my blood. I drove into her with raw power—nothing held back, nothing left to contain me but my own will.
She braced for each thrust as water poured over us in dizzying torrents. “Oh God,” she cried, voice breaking with the force of it.
“Like that?” I managed—more of a growl than an actual question.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Just—like—that.”
I gave her everything—every ounce of want and hunger—until she tightened around me in rippling waves of release. Her body tensed as she came, and she cried out, voice shattering against the tiles. A few more strokes, and heat coiled low inside me. I came hard and heavy—breathless, weightless, untethered.
After a few steadying breaths, I pulled out and drew Gabrielle to me, cradling her against my chest as the water streamed across our skin. Her hair clung to her face in wet tendrils as I kissed her, tasting triumph on her lips.
“God, you’re incredible,” I murmured, letting each word fall like a benediction.
She nestled closer, a satisfied hum vibrating against my skin. “Says the man who?—”
I kissed her before she could finish, stealing her surprise with my mouth.
Her laugh was breathless when I pulled back. “Is that how you plan to win every argument?”
“One tool of many,” I said, kissing her again—slow, unhurried. I savored the way her body curved into mine, soft and replete beneath my touch.
“Not fair,” she chided, though her eyes said otherwise—wide, warm, unguarded. I kissed her neck, then her shoulder, brushing wet hair from her face. Her skin was smooth and fragile under my touch, like porcelain warmed by fire.
We stayed there an impossibly long time, wrapped in steam and each other, as I murmured praise against her ear and savored every blissful sigh she gave in return.
The sun had climbed higher by the time we stepped out of the shower, towels slung loosely around us. My skin was still damp where Gabrielle’s fingers had traced patterns through the steam. She took a light blue button-down from the wardrobe and slipped into it with that easy grace that made it look better on her than it ever had on me.
She caught me watching her. “Going to stand there all morning?”
“Yes,” I said, earning another smile.
In the kitchen, I busied myself with the French press while Gabrielle perched on a counter stool. Her wet hair, darkened to honey gold, dripped onto her shoulders, leaving dark splotches on the blue shirt.
“Any plans today?” she asked.
“Have I got your Saturday too?”
“Oh, you can have just about anything you want.” She glanced down sheepishly at the countertop, suppressing a smile. “I hope that didn’t come across as desperate.”
I took the adjacent stool as the coffee darkened in the French press. “On the contrary,” I said, brushing a kiss against her temple. “It came across as charming.” I pulled back to look at her. “I don’t want to monopolize your time.” It was meant to sound light, casual. It came out…not quite.
She met my gaze. “Same here.” We were quiet for a beat before she continued. “Do you have work you need to do?”
