Page 78 of Prove You Wrong

Barely breaking eye contact, he pulls his jumper off, unbuttons his shirt and wriggles his trousers down. Now it’s my turn to be speechless as he stands in front of me wearing nothing but his boxer-briefs and smile.

I knew he was strong, broad, but seeing it is something quite different. My pitiful imagination couldn’t begin to conjure this beautiful image. Intricate tattoos, rich like artwork, cover most of his left shoulder and curl beyond his elbow. His chest is defined, but not imposing. Pecs lead to abs, to a smattering of hair. He has one of those incredible v-cuts: a giant arrow down to his junk. And believe me, my eyes are tracking down.

I don’t want to just see. I need to touch him. Feel him.

I flick a few droplets of water in Nate’s direction. ‘Don’t want to get your tighty-whities wet now, do you?’

A long ridge strains at the fabric causing me to hitch my breath.

I reach out my hand but he shakes his head, eyes dark with need.

‘Turn around,’ he grinds out.

‘Not fair. I’ve shown you mine.’ My gaze flicks down to my own body, trails of the last pearly shampoo bubbles hugging me.

The look he’s giving me doesn’t offer discussion. I turn away, risking a peep back to watch him strip down his boxers and step out of them.

Like an animal stalking its prey, he steps into the shower. As I turn to him, his hands find my face, his thumb traces my lip before he draws my mouth to his.

I wind my hands around his neck, running my fingers across his shoulders and down his back. He gasps.

Nate

Iwant to devour her.

The water from the shower is pounding down on us. Starting with my hands in her hair, I comb down, gliding through the soaked ribbons of her hair onto her arms then slipping onto the soft skin of her back. Grabbing the soap off the side, I massage her all over, taking my opportunity to touch every inch of her, like I’ve been fantasising about for weeks.

I want to worship her.

‘You look fucking incredible.’ Cupping her wet, soapy tits in my hands, I slide my thumbs over her nipples.

They pebble under my touch and my throat tightens, my breath coming out as a growl.

It’s hard to hold back from bending her over right here. I kiss her until we’re both breathless and then pull away slightly, resting my forehead against hers, the water trickling between us.

Her hands have worked their way down my back and she skims them around my hips, drawing patterns on my skin as she works her fingers to my stomach, and then teases me by fanning her fingers out again to my back, over my butt and then round to graze up my thighs, avoiding my dick by mere millimetres.

My cock is so hard it's throbbing. Thing's got a mind of its own as it twitches towards her touch. As if she can sense my need, she pulls my hips towards her, grinding her pussy against my thigh. The shower continues to thunder as my cock presses against the soft skin of her belly.

She breathes out a swear word as she grasps my shaft, squeezing just the right amount as she pulls slowly down and up. My knees almost buckle.

‘This is quite … woah,’ she murmurs.

Strangling a groan, I try to distract her — to distract myself — and bite at the soft skin where her neck meets her shoulder. Still massaging her body, I bring my palms back to her breasts. I home in on their perfection, a soft weight, just filling my hand.

‘This beats any foam party at the rock club.’ I try to joke but now I’m thinking about her soapy, wet body; looking at her soapy, wet body; feeling her soapy, wet body and I don’t think I can take any more.

The distraction isn’t working. Worried I might shoot my load all over her stomach before I’ve even managed to fully reacquaint myself with her pussy, I carefully lift her up. She wraps her arms around my neck as I carry her, princess style, and step out of the shower. Holding her tightly, I relish the feeling of her soft skin against mine.

She reaches out to shut the water off.

With Ella dripping in my arms, I pad down the hall. ‘Which way?’

‘Last door on the left,’ she mumbles as she runs her lips over my collar bone.

Droplets pool in her navel as I lay her out on the bed. I bend down, sucking the water up as she giggles.

‘Something funny?’ I ask, voice rough with restraint.

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