“Fuck, baby… hold still for me a second.” My fingers dig into her hips, hard enough to bruise, and the thought of her wearing my marks sends my pulse racing. “Your pussy’s so tight… so wet.” I move again, slow at first, sliding through her slick heat until a groan rumbles out of me. “Paradise,” I whisper against her ear before nipping at the tender spot beneath it, drawing a startled yelp from her lips.
She tightens around me, voice trembling as she pleads, “Please… Em, please,” the words breaking apart in breathless, desperate sounds.
I press her harder against the cool tile, gripping her hips to angle her exactly how I want. The first thrust draws a cry from both of us, a raw, broken sound that fills the steamy air. I move faster, harder, losing rhythm to instinct. She clings to me, nails scraping my shoulders, and all I can think is how right it feels—how inevitable.
“I should be fucking you in a bed,” I grit out between breaths, even as I keep driving into her. “You deserve more than this… more than a quick fuck in the shower.” The words shake loose from somewhere deep, but I can’t stop, can’t slow down. “You deserve everything,” I roar as I shift my angle and feel her body break apart again around me.
We fall together, her release dragging mine out of me until I’m spilling into her, shaking from the force of it. She goes soft in my arms, and I hold her up, both of us gasping for air. My forehead drops against hers, the water running down our faces like rain. “Damn, baby,” I whisper, still trembling, my chest pressed to hers as the world finally stills.
She giggles, her legs slipping from around my waist until her feet touch the floor. “I can barely feel my legs,” she says between shaky breaths, laughter soft and breathless. She’s trembling, but it doesn’t stop me from catching her hips and turning her around and slamming back into her. Berk cries out, her pussy tightening again, every sound she makes telling me how close she is.
“I’ve waited a long time to feel you wrapped around me,” I rasp, my voice rough with obsession. “Once isn’t nearly enough.” I spread her ass, watching my cock slide in and out of her tight cunt, every movement desperate and consuming. Her palms press flat to the tiles, bracing herself as we find that fierce, unrelenting rhythm. Steam rises between us, the sound of our breathing turning ragged and hungry. She’s breathtaking like this—wild, unguarded, completely mine in this moment. A shiver runs through me as I lean in close, my mouth brushing her ear. “You going to stay with me, sweetheart?” I whisper in her ear, my voice rough with satisfaction. “Take everything I give you.”
“Yes… please,” she gasps, breathless and trembling. “Don’t stop.”
Jesus.
She’s going to be the death of me—but if this is how I go, I’ll die happy.
Finally, I lose control, my rhythm stuttering. Her body tightens around me, pulling me under until everything blurs. My legs tremble, barely holding my weight—and hers—when she starts to collapse against the shower wall. I turn her gently and pull her close. Her wet blonde and purple hair clings to her face, and I brush it aside just to see her expression, dazed and beautiful in the aftermath.
She giggles again; her fingers splay across my wet chest. “Damn, Em.”
I chuckle, knowing the truth—since I’m still holding most of her weight against me. I kiss her softly, her lips warm and pliant beneath mine. Then I nuzzle her like a tamed creature craving affection, and she doesn’t disappoint, her hand sliding through my hair in slow, soothing strokes.
I growl low in my throat; the sound vibrating between us as I nuzzle her neck again, breathing her in. The scent of her mixed with soap and steam is enough to make my pulse skip. Without words, I guide her back under the spray, letting the water wash away what’s left of the chaos clinging to our skin. The heat’s fading, but the touch of her body against mine keeps me warm.
I reach for the body wash and squeeze it into my hand, working it into a lather before running my palms over her shoulders, down her arms, and across her back. She’s quiet, her eyes half-closed, trusting me completely. Every soft sound she makes sinksdeep into me, grounding me in this strange, fragile peace. I rinse her gently, then reach for the shampoo, pouring some into my hands and working it through her hair with slow, deliberate movements. The bright strands slip between my fingers like silk, and she hums under her breath when I massage her scalp.
When the water turns cool, I shut it off and grab a towel from the rack. I wrap it around her slight frame, pulling her close as I dry her off. My hands linger longer than they should, tracing the curve of her shoulder, the line of her jaw, just needing to memorize her again. She leans into me, eyes soft and lips curved in that quiet smile that wrecks me every time.
Her eyes are heavy, her body soft with exhaustion, and I can tell sleep is pulling at her. When we’re dry enough, I guide her gently down the hall, my hand resting at the small of her back as the low light spills across her skin. In the bedroom, I take the towel from around her body and use it to dry the ends of her hair again. The strands cling to my fingers, and she watches me with that half-sleepy, half-amused expression that makes my chest tighten.
When I’m sure she’s dry enough, I pull the blankets back and help her slide beneath them. She sighs, curling into the softness, her hair fanning out over the pillow. I pause for a moment, holding the edge of the sheet above her, unable to stop my eyes from roaming. Every inch of her is a map I’ve been missing for too long. Her skin glows faintly in the dim light, marked with the faintest traces of our time together. My throat works, swallowing hard, when I finally drag my gaze back up to her face.
She’s watching me now, one brow arched in challenge, the corner of her mouth twitching into a grin.
“What?” I tease, voice a low, possessive growl. “Can’t stare at what’s mine?”
Berk’s lips curve into a sleepy smile, her lashes low but her gaze still burning with that spark that always wrecks me. “You can stare all you want,” she murmurs, voice soft and warm enough to melt steel. “In fact, you could come to bed with me too.” Her words come out with a teasing lilt, but her eyes are already fighting to stay open, exhaustion written in every slow blink.
I laugh quietly and lean down to press a kiss to the tip of her nose, feeling her skin twitch beneath my lips. “Not tonight, baby,” I whisper against her. “You get some sleep. One of us will be in soon, promise.” I tug the blanket higher, tucking it around her shoulders until she’s wrapped up like a precious little burrito. We’ve all seen it—the way she thrashes when she sleeps alone, the uneven breaths when the nightmares find her. None of us can stand it. And none of us will ever allow her to wake up afraid and by herself again.
I brush her hair back one last time and straighten, my voice low and certain. “Night, baby. Get some sleep.”
I make it halfway to the door before I hear her soft voice cut through the quiet. “Em.” My name catches on her tongue, a little breathless, a little afraid. I turn, and she’s sitting up just enough for the moonlight to touch her face and tops of her breasts. The shyness in her smile surprises me, especially after what we just shared.
“What is it, baby?” I ask, my voice is gentler than I expect.
Her fingers twist in the blanket at her chest, and then she whispers, fragile and real. “I love you.”
For a second, the words hang between us, too heavy and too right all at once. My chest tightens, and I can’t help the way my throat burns when I answer. “Love you too, baby,” I tell her. “Always have. Always will.”
She lets out a soft breath; the tension sliding fully from her shoulders as her eyes flutter shut—like she hadn’t expected the same care, the same quiet reassurance, and is finally allowing herself to accept it. I stand there a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the peace that finally settles over her face as she quickly slips into sleep. I leave the door cracked just enough for the light to spill through and make my way down the hall where the guys are waiting.
When I walk into the War Room, the twins are already there, lounging. The second they spot me, matching grins spread across their faces. Ronan, of course, is the first to open his mouth.
“Well…” he drawls, stretching the word out like he’s winding up for a punchline. “I’d ask where Berk is, but judging by the noises earlier, I’m guessing she’s… asleep now?” His grin turns unmistakably devilish as he claps me on the back, the impact hard enough to send me stumbling a step forward.