Page 51 of Ruthless Consequences

He looks at me, his eyes like melted chocolate in the glow. “Come on, baby,” he says. “You need to get warm.”

“I’m okay.” The chattering of my teeth makes me out to be a liar. But I’m not. It’s the attraction I feel. It’s powerful. Powerful enough to pull such a physical reaction from me.

He doesn’t say anything as he lifts me off my feet. He’s careful when he steps in and then lowers us down. I hiss at the feel of the water. It’s hot, almost unpleasant at first. But then I settle into it with him. He’s behind me, and my back is pressed to his front.

The house is old, with deep, wide, six-foot tubs, which I’m thankful for. I’m covered almost to my breasts.

Lilo is right. We fit together. I realize I’m sinking into him instead of the water. He cups some and tilts his hand, letting it flow over me, even though only my nipples are uncovered. They’re hard, and when he starts to barely touch them, I moan—deep and long.

“Relax,” he says. “You’re going to be sore.”

“I already am,” I say. “But I don’t want to stop. I want more.”

He leans down and kisses my neck. His fingers tease my nipples, and I push back against him. He groans. Then he’s moving us, unplugging the tub. As the water rinses down the drain, he keeps my back pressed to his front. He’s twisting my nipple now, and it sends a spark straight between my legs. His free hand follows the heat, and he starts to caress. I’m already gone. I’ve already surrendered. And I gasp when he enters me from behind. He stops touching my nipple and sticks his finger in my mouth.

To quiet me.

I start to suck while he fucks me. He switches positions, but I don’t feel the disconnect. I’m kneeling, my palms to the base of the tub, and he’s still behind me. My body is dripping water and sweat. He stops moving and I make a garbled noise.

“You want me, baby?”

“Yes,” I barely get out.

“How much?”

I can’t think. So, I react. I move.

He moves with an animalistic sound, but slowly, and he’s going so deep. He spreads my ass cheeks. He’s watching.

“You’re so perfect. Mine. All fuckingmine,” he says, sliding in and out. “I love watching as you open for me. Take me deep inside. I love watching as I fuck you. You have no idea what you do to me. How much I love you.” He hisses out a breath. He starts to move faster. Harder.

He’s holding back, but only his body, so it doesn’t impale mine.

The slap of our bodies is louder in here. And when I come, it’s with a cry. A cry that sounds like I’ve done the impossible. Like climb the highest and roughest mountain and have reached the top. He spills himself in me right after with a deep noise that sounds like it hurt his chest.

We stay that way for a second. I’m not sure if I can even move. My chest is tight, like I ran up that mountain, and I’m having a hard time catching my breath. He places a soft kiss on my lower back, where it dips, before he slides out of me. Before I can even make a noise, he’s hauling me up by the stomach, and we’re in the same position as we were before. The plug is back in the tub and it’s filling up again.

He washes my hair and my body clean. It’s gentle. So nice. And I’m like Hoffa when she purred because of Lilo’s touch.

He chuckles in my ear after he pulls the stopper with his toes. “You need sleep.”

I’m so tired that I don’t even answer. His chuckle turns quieter, darker. It sends goosebumps over my skin, and I shiver. He gets out before me, but he doesn’t leave me behind—he scoops me up like I weigh nothing. Grabbing a towel, he sops up every droplet of water from my skin and then dries himself before he wraps it around his waist. He drapes a dry towel over my shoulders.

He plugs in the blow dryer and goes to town on my hair. He even goes as far as to slather me with sweet-scented cream. I wonder how he knows how to do all of this, but my thoughts disappear with the fog. He opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out of it. When he returns, he has the T-shirt he was wearing and another pair of sweatpants. He slides the T-shirt over my head, and I inhale. I inhale like he’s not standing in front of me. Because it smells like him, and I can’t wait to have his scent all over my body again.

“What are you going to wear?” I barely get the words out when he picks me up.

He carries me toward the bedroom and shuts and locks the door behind him. I really don’t care if he does or he doesn’t. Even if Sonny comes home “early,” he goes straight to his matchbox of a room and never turns around after that. He’s glued to the TV. Reruns ofGunsmoke, The Honeymooners, andM*A*S*Hare always on repeat.

Lilo toes the shirt I was wearing earlier. “This,” he says.

He sidesteps it, though, and sets me on the bed. I wonder if he’s going to leave. Maybe I don’t hide the disappointment on my face because he tilts my chin up with a finger, kisses me softly, and tells me to push over. I get comfortable. He lowers the towel and slips in beside me.

I want his skin close to mine again. I undress but leave his shirt at the bottom of the bed. I’ll wear it when I get up to fix us breakfast.

He sighs when my body settles next to his, facing him. He kisses my forehead and then wraps his arms around me. My eyes are on his until I fall asleep.

I’m dead to the world after that. I’m not sure how long I’m out for, but, almost unbelievably, I’m up first. Wearing his shirt and the sweatpants, I kiss his lips and tiptoe to the bathroom. Light is barely touching the sky outside. I do my business and prepare to start breakfast.

---