Page 16 of Thief

He braced his other hand against the tiles by her head. “I’m gonna come now.” He pulled his cock nearly all the way out but kept his finger wedged inside her anus. “You want to join me?”

“Yes…yes.”

“Without a sound?”

“Yes…yes, now.”

It was like flicking a switch. He pulled back another half inch and released a guttural groan as he forged back in, hard, fast, furious. The pace had been wild before, now it was unnatural. They were going to break something, either themselves or the shower cubicle.

Kat’s clamped her lips together to stop from crying out. The pleasure was like the devil, devouring her, mixing with pain, flying her higher than anything she’d ever known. Another insistent finger joined the one in her tight rear hole. Stretching and twisting, he ground upwards, filled her to capacity. The devil laughed, rejoiced, stabbed her with its sharp little fork, and her body gave up its battle and tumbled over the edge.

With her arse on fire, her pussy overloaded and her clitoris being hammered to oblivion, the orgasm consumed her completely. She squeezed her eyes shut and was greeted with a pyrotechnic display she couldn’t focus on. Nerve endings never before stimulated dragged in pleasure as though starving. His cock felt so huge inside her. The heavy engorged veins of his erection pulsed and added to the tremors of her womb.

“Fuck, yes,” he hissed. “Let me have all of you…”

He tipped his head up to the pummelling water and swallowed his shout of satisfaction as he became rigid with his own orgasm. His cock convulsed, and his hips bucked her up the slippery.

Her breaths came in harsh gasps, and she dropped her head onto his shoulder. Unbelievable bliss washed over her like the water. Wave after wave of sensation crashed through her. She gave herself over to him completely.

John gave one final ram, shuddered then pulled his fingers from her back passage and his cock from inside her. His head came back level with hers. For a moment, she thought there might be a murmur of approval or a word of sentiment.

There wasn’t.

He reached for her elbows, dragged them from his neck and stepped away from the wall, forcing her to release her ankles from his waist. She landed on the shower floor with legs barely able to support her weight and her insides missing him desperately as they juddered out the last tremors of her climax.

He turned through the water and stepped out the cubicle. “Now that’s out of the way,” he said hoarsely, “we can get down to business.”

Chapter Three

Kat gave up trying to stay upright and sank to the floor with her knees against her chest, panting, trying to focus through the curtain of water.

John grabbed a snow-white towel and rubbed it roughly over his head and face. He looked into the wide mirror above the sink and spotted her slumped. “Get up.”

“I…I…” Kat squeaked out. “I will in a minute.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Kat felt the first pop of fury burst in her veins. She had handled it; she’d handled it just fine. And if there was one failing she couldn’t tolerate it was being thought of as weak. She pushed up and switched off the shower. On shaky legs, she slunk from the cubicle. “Hand me my dressing gown.” She indicated a chenille powder blue robe hanging on the back of the door.

John reached for it.

“Thanks,” she said, sarcasm dripping from the word like syrup.

He snorted and turned to leave the confines of the bathroom. “We need to talk.” He threw over his sodden shoulder. “You have something I want and…”

As he stepped onto the carpeted floor, Kat aimed a hard, sharp blow at his right temple. Whack! The middle knuckle of her left hand, with her entire weight behind it, blasted into his skull.

John spun and lifted his arm in time to block a second blow heading straight for his nose. “Damn it, woman!”

Kat stepped back into a balanced stance and aimed a side kick at his groin, trying to confuse him by striking out with her left fist towards his head at the same time.

John blocked the groin strike as if swatting a fly and took a step towards her, batting down her right fist that was now heading for his solar plexus. “Jesus Christ, lady, what the fuck are you doing? I told you I only want to talk.”

Kat wasn’t interested in talking. She wanted him down. This brute who’d followed her and broken into her apartment had to be taken out. But John was immune to her expertise, trying to rationalise with her at the same time as blocking and defending as though she were a mere irritation. She aimed another side kick at his groin, curled her quad up into a cannon about to go off, but he was too close, and as she fired forward, she caught his left knee cap with the ball of her foot, hard—really hard.

An expression of complete and utter agony twisted his face. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out as he lunged towards her arms wide.

Kat’s split second of triumph lasted exactly that—a split second—because then she was flat on her back with John’s weight crushing down on her. She couldn’t breathe, her ribs were cracking and her lungs bursting as she strained for scraps of oxygen.

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