Page 104 of Under Pressure

“I’m not cold,” she whispers.

Running the pads of my fingers over her still-swollen pussy, I play with her clit and kiss her. Not a thing in the world could stop me from having her like this, including the taste of me on her tongue.

Her legs spread for me. I use my thumb to work her sensitive nub while I tease her entrance. “Did sucking my cock make you this wet, Quinn? Or was it swallowing my cum?”

“Both,” she taunts.

I stare down at her, my breath sawing in and out of me. Her face scrunches in pleasure when I glide two fingers inside of her, not bothering with one. Between the two times I had her last night and the one this morning before we crawled into the shower, she’s more than ready for the stretch. Her nails dig into my wrist, and I know it won’t take long to make her come.

“You’re mine,” I tell her, curling my fingers, searching for the spot?—

“Yes, Beck! I’m . . . I’m coming.”

Fuck, she was ready from just sucking me off. I grind my palm against her clit now while plunging my fingers deep. She tips her head back and rocks against me, chasing the climax that’s making her throb around my fingers. Tapping them to that sensitive place she loves so much, I help her over the edge and suck on her pulse, feeling as it speeds, then slows.

“That’s it,” I coo, running my lips up to her ear, my nose pressing into her wet hair. “You’re so beautiful. I could watch you come like that all the time.”

She laughs breathily. “What a boring existence that would be.”

“You’re wrong, but I’ll let it go this once.”

Finally, I guide her away from the wall and beneath the hot water. The heavy pulse of it rains down her shoulders and chest. It’s a task in itself just to keep my eyes from following every droplet that trickles down her naked skin, but I manage.

“I’m going to be late for work.”

“We’regoing to be late for work.”

She snorts and reaches for her shampoo. I don’t point out that neither of us brought it in earlier or that it’s not the only product sitting on the usually empty shelf below all of my things. Moving them here was something she did this week while I was gone. Fuck me, the thought of her feeling comfortable enough here to shower in my bathroom . . .

I’m pathetic.

I stand silently and watch her massage her scalp, getting it sudsy. Dark, rich cherries fill the shower, and I inhale the aroma greedily, letting myself drown in her. The soft close of her eyes exposes her inner peace, and I swallow the thickness in my throat, not wanting to shatter her mood with growled words.

“Can I?”

She pauses but then nods. Her hands fall to her sides, the soap bubbles dripping to the tile. I take her shoulders and guide her beneath the water before gently tilting her head back and running my fingers over her scalp. Weaving them through the strands, I release a tight breath and take the last step left between us. She moulds into my chest and stays there as I rinse her hair.

Not willing to part from her yet, I reach behind her and grab the twin bottle to the one she used before. She rests her forehead on my sternum and winds her arms around my middle, holding me as I start working the thick conditioner into the bottom section of her hair.

I’ve never done this before, but I think I’m doing an alright job. She’s breathing softly and evenly against me, and I continueplaying with the slick strands for what feels like hours, working them around my knuckles and applying a firm pressure to the base of her skull. Neither of us moves or speaks; we simply . . . exist together.

Her slight shiver sparks concern as I reluctantly begin rinsing her hair.

“Come on, I still need to feed and water you,” I tease.

“I’m not a houseplant.”

I click my tongue. “Of course not. Don’t demean yourself. You’re more like a rose bush.”

Her choked laugh penetrates my chest, making my heart soar. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not by this.”

“Nah. You’re prickly on the outside, but once you get past those, you have the softest fucking petals.”

“That’s . . . actually a really sweet thing to say.”

“You’re just realizing that I’m a total romantic god?”

That’s what does it. Her eyes are glowing with warmth when she shoves me to the shower down and twists the tap off.