Page 87 of Speed Crush

She hesitates—just long enough to make me wonder if I’ve misread the entire world.

Then she whispers it. “I want you.”

That’s all I need.

I crash my mouth over hers.

We don’t make it to the bed. Not at first.

I start to pick her off the floor, but her hands press against my chest, halting me.

"Can I take a shower first?" she asks, breathless. "Since you're so clean and I'm... well, not."

"Sure," I say, voice low. "But I'm coming with you."

She opens her mouth, maybe to protest. She doesn’t get the chance.

I peel her shirt up slowly, kissing every new inch of skin I reveal. Her jeans follow, sliding down her legs as she steps out of them, flushed and breathless.

Then I lead her into the stall, flick the water back on, and pull her in with me.

The second the spray hits us, I press her against the warm tiles, my hands on her hips, my mouth on her neck.

She whimpers so deliciously, her fingers gripping my shoulders tightly.

I lift her leg around my waist, the steam curling around us as I slide into her. Her head falls back, lips parted, body already trembling.

And because I want to impress her with my multitasking skills—or maybe just drive her completely wild—I reach for the soap. My hands move over her slick, flushed skin, lathering her shoulders, her back, down the curve of her waist. Each thrust is deep and slow, perfectly timed with the way my hands explore her body.

She gasps, then laughs, breathless. "Are you seriously washing me right now?"

"Efficiency," I groan against her neck. "Plus, you smell like pine sap and sugar cookies. I like it. But I like you better like this."

Her nails dig into my biceps, her lips catching on a moan. "You're unreal."

"Only for you."

We move together, every stroke slow, deep, claiming. My name is a gasp on her tongue. Her moans echo off the tile, and I can barely hold it together.

She comes with a shudder, and I follow with a curse into her shoulder, her name a groan against her skin.

She leans into me, slick and boneless, and I hold her under the water until neither of us can tell where the heat ends and we begin.

I take my time to dry her off. Every glide of the towel earns a little gasp or sigh, especially when I drag the plush cotton between her thighs. Her breath hitches—yeah, she likes the friction more than she’s ready to admit. I file that away for later while I linger a little longer than necessary.

She mutters something about being clean already, but her hips shift just enough to betray her.

So I lift her into my arms and carry her across the room, both of us damp and flushed, her legs curled around me as if her body already knows where it wants to end up.

The sheets are warm, the air full of candlelight and pine. She clings tighter when I lower her onto the mattress, and I swear she’s never looked more perfect than in this moment—hair damp, lips kiss-swollen, skin flushed with satisfaction and surprise.

My mouth blazes a trail down her throat, her chest, her belly. Her thighs part like she’s been waiting all damn night to be devoured—and I give her exactly that. I don’t just go down on her. I press a kiss just above her mound and murmur, "So soft down here… you bare this perfect pussy like you knew I’d want to memorize every inch."

Her hips roll, her fingers digging into my scalp. "Talk dirty to me, Noah," she moans, voice thick with need. "Tell me how good I taste. Tell me you want to stay down there forever."

I glance up, lips slick, cock twitching at the sound of her voice all breathy and unguarded. “You love when I suck on your clit like this, don’t you? Love how I make you fall apart with just my mouth.”

She gasps, nodding frantically. “Yes—yes, just like that. You make me feel so good. Keep going, baby. Please.”

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