Page 53 of Brash for It
And there she is.
Kristen.Hair loose, face soft, clothes half-shed in her hands.She doesn’t say a word, just steps inside like she belongs here.Like the three days I was gone were nothing but a pause.She lets her dress slide off her shoulders, slow, deliberate, until it pools at her feet, panties already slipped off.Then she opens the shower door and steps in with me, steam curling around her like the water’s been waiting for her too.
Her skin brushes mine, warm against the heat.She tips her head up, water streaming over her face, and then she looks at me through the spray.
“I missed you,” she says, voice low, raw.
My throat tightens.My hands clench on the tile.
“Kristen.”It comes out like a warning, gravel in my chest.“I don’t have the self-control.If you don’t want all of me,” My jaw flexes.“Get out now.”
Her eyes flash, steady.Instead of backing away, she presses closer.Chest to chest.Her arms slide around my waist, water cascading over both of us.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
The heat that surges through me has nothing to do with the water.Her words hit me harder than any punch I’ve ever taken.I’m not going anywhere.
Challenge laid out.
The steam blurs the edges of everything, but she’s sharp and clear in front of me—eyes locked on mine, lips parted, water slicking down her hair, her skin.She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate.She just presses closer, and the last of my restraint buckles.
I’ve spent months telling myself I’d wait.That she deserved time, space, healing.That I could take the edge off with cold showers and long rides.But there’s only so much a man can push down before it claws back up.I haven’t gone this long without a woman under me since I had sex for the first time at fifteen.And right now, with her pressed against me, her breath hot on my chest, her nails skimming my ribs like she’s daring me to finally take what we both know has been building—there’s nothing left inside me to keep the need at bay.
I catch her face in my hands, tilt her chin up.“You sure?”I rasp, because I need the words even if I already feel the answer in her body.
“Yes,” she whispers.“I’m sure.”
That’s it.The last barrier gone.
I kiss her hard.Weeks of hunger, of holding back, pour into it.She answers with the same kind of desperation, lips parting, tongue sliding against mine, her hands fisting in my hair like she’s been starving too.The water pelts down, hot and relentless, but I barely feel it compared to the heat radiating off her.
I press her back against the slick tile, my hands roaming down her sides, memorizing every curve, every shiver.She gasps into my mouth, arches into me, and that sound alone is enough to brand itself into my bones.
The kiss turns frantic, wet, teeth clashing, her legs trembling against mine.She clings to me like she’s afraid I’ll vanish if she doesn’t, but she doesn’t need to worry.I’m not going anywhere either.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, sliding down my chest, mapping me like she’s claiming every inch.I groan, low and rough, the sound reverberating off the tile.
“Kristen,” My voice cracks.“You don’t know what you’re starting.”I feel like there is a beast inside me coming alive.The dragon spirit in me is fire burning for her that is about to be unleashed.
She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, water streaming down her cheeks like tears that are anything but.“Yes, I do.”Her smile is small, fierce.“You warned me.I want you, Kellum.I want this.”
Something in me snaps clean in two.
I lift her, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively, her body molding to mine like it was built for it.She gasps, clutches at me, and the sound of it is pure fire.My mouth finds her neck, biting, soothing with my tongue, while she tilts her head back, offering more.
“Mark me,” she pants as I can’t help but devour the flesh at the bend of her neck into her shoulder.
The shower becomes its own world—steam thick, water pounding, every surface slick and hot.I move against her, with her, like we’ve been waiting lifetimes for this.Every kiss, every touch, every desperate press of her body to mine lays claims ways words never will.
She moans my name, breathless, and the sound undoes me.I’ve heard my name a thousand ways—growled, barked, cursed—but never like this.Never like it was an answered prayer.
I can’t get close enough.I push, pull, taste, devour.She clings, answers, gives, takes.We find every angle the small space allows, bodies colliding with a kind of raw grace that only comes when there’s no fear left, only want.The water beats down, mixing with the sweat, the salt, the heat of us.
At one point she grips the back of my neck, pulls my forehead to hers, eyes blazing.“Don’t hold back,” she pants.“Not with me.”
And I don’t.
I let go.I let her see the man under the control, under the restraint, under the years of telling myself I couldn’t trust this with anyone.I give her all of it, every ounce of hunger, every drop of need, every jagged edge of me that usually stays caged.
