Page 310 of Sins of the Heart

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Head back, he plunged into her, muscles clenched,

body shaking. She could feel him coming, feel the

throb of his orgasm, the coiled tension of his release.

To her shock, she climbed fast and hard and came

again in crashing, wild waves.

“Fu-u-u-ck.” She gasped.

She was trembling and he was trembling and they

both hung there, together.

She thought he held her there for a long time as she

found her way back. A very long time.

“Damn,” she whispered. “Damn.”

Shifting his grip, he held her with one hand under

her bottom and reached out to adjust the taps. Only in

that second did she realize the water had gone winter

cold.

He played with the tap, turning down the cold, turning up the hot. Only when he was satisfied did he let

her slide down his body, skin to wet skin.

Taking up the soap, he washed her, washed himself.

“I already scrubbed everything—” she laughed

“—twice.”

He nodded, his expression solemn, but he kept

working soapy hands between her thighs, then up over

her hips, her ass, kneading, touching.

“It’s about needing to have my hands on you,” he

murmured, “not about getting you clean. I sat out there

and listened to you humming and thought about my

hands on you, just like this.”

Their gazes met, held.

“What else were you thinking about?” she whispered.

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