Page 54 of Twisted Gift

My eyes close when his hands touch my skin. He starts at my shoulders, massaging the soap into my skin and the tightness out of my muscles. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth to keep from moaning, though it’ll only encourage him to keep going.

“You good?” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear and sending a shiver down my spine.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “So good.”

He chuckles, sliding his hands down my arms, lathering the soap there before moving onto my back where he works out the knots and leaves my skin radiating heat and tingling under his touch. His hand slides to my front, trailing a line of suds from my waist to my breasts. He caresses my chest, dipping down to my breast and flicking the nipple.

This time, I don’t hold back my moan. It fills the room as my head falls against his chest, and I feel him harden against my back. He presses his lips against the side of my neck as his fingers tweak and massage my breasts until my breathing quickens, my chest rising and falling fast.

Just as I catch my breath, his hand dips lower, brushing my stomach on its path toward the heat at my core. My heart slams against my ribcage when he rinses the soap off his hand and slips it between my thighs, caressing me with his finger.

I suck in a breath. “Tristan...”

His lips curl into a grin against my skin. “Sweetheart?”

“I need you,” I whisper, moaning when he hits a sensitive spot.

He inhales, easing his finger out of me. “You have me, Rory. All of me. I’m yours.”

My chest swells with bright yellow elation. I turn to face him and see nothing but love in the depths of his blue eyes. “I’m yours,” I echo.

We shift places and Tristan nudges me back against the opposite wall of the shower. He lifts me with ease, and before I can make a sound, he slides into me, morphing my gasp into a moan of pleasure.

“My god,” I mutter, wrapping my legs around him as he thrusts, slow and deep.

I feel him pulse inside of me, and I clench around him, my mouth muffling the deep groan that tears from his throat as he picks up the pace. My head falls back against the wall, and my lungs need a minute to fill with air before my lips seek his once more. My chest is heaving, my cheeks are flushed; I’m not going to last much longer. The urgency in Tristan’s thrusts and the way his mouth is dominating mine tells me he won’t either.

“Aurora,” he says against my mouth, his voice heavy, thick with lust.

“Yes,” I breathe. “Keep going.”

He nips my lip and thrusts hard, hitting the spot that ignites the frenzy of pleasure inside me.

I cry out my release, the sound quieted by his lips on mine. He follows not long after, holding me close and burying his face in the crook of my neck, his lips pressed against my heated skin.

Tristan guides me down to the floor of the shower, keeping his arms around me even when my feet are flat on the tile.

We spend the rest of our time in the shower shampooing and conditioning before Tristan pins me against the wall, the length of his body pressed against mine in all the right places to steal my breath and heat my cheeks. Evidently, his need is yet to be satiated.

My eyes shift to meet his gaze, and a grin touches my lips. I put my hands on his shoulders, pushing him back enough so he’s the one against the wall. I surprise us both when I sink to my knees before him, trailing my fingers along his torso as I lower myself.

“Aurora.” His voice is gruff.

I smirk at the responding rapid beat of his heart. “Mmm?”

His eyes narrow. “What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?”

With a quick grin, I offer a flippant shrug. “I’m finding something to do with my ‘smart mouth.’” I drop my hand to where his long, thick length is standing proudly in front of my face. I take care in wrapping my fingers around him before sliding my hand up, keeping my eyes locked on his.

“Christ,” he grinds out, leaning back against the wall.

I can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face, watching him undermytouch. It’s empowering. Heady, even. I apply a bit more pressure, sliding my hand up and down, increasing the pace once his breathing picks up. He curses when I lean in and flick my tongue along the tip. I slide my fingers up to the hilt, and this time, my lips follow. Slowly, I take all of him into my mouth, my eyes watering when he reaches the back of my throat.

His fingers push through my hair, guiding me back and forth. “You’ll be my undoing,” he growls.

My pulse surges, my eyes closing as I moan against him.

He stiffens, groaning deeply, which encourages me to keep going. “Rory,” he murmurs, touching my cheek and making me pause. “I want to come inside you again.”

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