Chapter 217 Chapter 217

Chapter 217 Chapter 217
Kyra POV

"You have the most perfect ass," he whispers as the steam from the hot water drifts around us. His hand moves down between us and slides between my wet thighs, his fingers reaching forward to rub my clit, the water mixing with my own wetness.

"Do you want me?"

His teeth graze the back of my neck as his finger slowly pushes into me. A small moan escapes my lips.

"Always."

"Tell me."

His lips curve against my neck in response, and he pushes his palm up against my sex, his middle finger pressing perfectly against my sweet spot.

"I want to hear your sweet voice say something dirty."

Without hesitating, I say exactly what I'm thinking.

"I want to feel every inch of your cock rammed in me right now."

"Fuck yeah," he hisses.

He backs away from me and lets the water spray down my back, then grabs the bottle of lavender body wash I keep here, squeezing some into his hands. I stay where he put me, still facing the tile with my hands flat against it, and he begins to rub the lather all over my back.

My nipples harden against his palms when he reaches around to cup them, gently pinching before moving his slippery hands down to soap up my thighs, running his hand between my cheeks on the way, his fingers lingering and pressing into places that make my breath catch.

His hand tangles in my wet hair and pulls my head back to him, his lips capturing mine, licking the drops of water that have dripped down to my mouth. I twist my head back to kiss him deeper when he grips my waist, guiding my lower body to meet his and pushing us so the stream of water flows between our bodies.

His hand moves between us, fisting himself and guiding into me. Grabbing my hips, he thrusts up into me long and deep, making me rise onto my toes from the force of him filling me.

"If you ask for every inch, I'm going to give you every inch," he rasps against my ear.

His voice is so deep and rough it makes me sigh and arch my back, craving even more of him. His hands slide up and cover my breasts, cupping them for leverage as he continues to move against me, his forehead leaning against the back of mine.

As his breathing becomes more ragged, he reaches up to grab the shower head above us, detaches it, and flicks the controls with his thumb. I'm vaguely confused but too focused on him to care—until he holds it between my legs and the pulsing water sends my nerve endings into overdrive, launching me into an instant orgasm.

My legs almost buckle beneath me, but he wraps his arm around my waist to hold me steady as he pulls back and then sinks into me again.

"Tor..."

Orgasmic delirium has me melting under his touch, as if my bones have dissolved. Dropping the shower head, he spins me around and grabs my hips, lifting me up and pressing me back against the tile, finding me again as I wrap my legs around his waist.

He kisses me with wild hunger, moving against me while the dangling shower head sprays water everywhere. He moans against my mouth and stills, buried deep inside me. His kisses slow—deep, soft—and I feel him tense and release.

I move against him in slow circles, holding him close. Exhaling deeply, he stares into my eyes and loosens his grip.

"Damn...I love you," he says, his voice filled with raw emotion.

"I love you back," I say breathlessly, raining kisses over his face and smoothing his wet hair back.

He lowers me to my feet and we take a quick, proper shower together as the water has gone mostly cold.

When we step out, I realize water has sprayed onto the floor from the shower head flinging around. I kneel down and wipe it up with an extra towel.

"That was pretty amazing," I say, the aftershocks still quaking through my body.

He grins down at me, and my eyes drift to that incredibly defined V as he wraps his towel around his narrow waist.

"You're not allowed to touch that by yourself. I hold the keys to the magic shower stimulator."

"Oh, really?" I tease.

"Really."

I stand and kiss his cheek. "I wouldn't want to do anything without you anyway. That would be cheating."

A frown replaces his smile, and his eyes darken.

"You actually mean that, don't you?"

I squeeze the excess water from my hair with the towel and look at him. "Mean what?"

"That you wouldn't cheat on me."

My stomach twists just thinking about that.

"Of course I mean it. Are you crazy? Why would I ever cheat on you?" I poke his abs playfully. "You're the perfect man—sexy, sweet, caring, you love pets, you beat up bad guys, you kiss bunny noses...should I go on?"

He leans back against the sink and watches me as I dry off.

"I never told you this, but Sydni cheated all the time. Of course she didn't think of it as cheating because we were in a so-called open relationship—but she was the only one with the opening."

I frown in confusion. "Open relationship? What's that?"

"It means you date and sleep with other people but still have an ongoing relationship with someone else."

"Oh!" I say in surprise. "Ew."

"Yeah. Ew."

"Did you...?" I hesitate.

"Once. A long time ago. I was young and thought it would be fun to have a free pass, you know? But it sucked. I felt guilty. Back then I cared about Sydni a lot, but over time, all that destroyed us. Especially her obsession with your father."

"Were my parents like that too?" I ask, suddenly uneasy.

He immediately pulls me closer, wrapping a thick white towel around me.

"Fuck, no. Your parents were completely committed to each other. Aiden hasn't touched another woman in years—even though Sydni has tried everything."

I let out a breath of relief, though the thought still makes me uneasy.

"I'm sorry, Kyra. I shouldn't talk like that. Sometimes I forget he's not just my friend—he's your dad."

"It's okay. You can talk to me about anything. I just don't understand why Sydni would do that when she had you."

"Variety. Excitement. Who knows." He shrugs, but I can see the hurt beneath it.

"You don't ever have to worry about that with me, Tor. I don't care if I'm eighteen or fifty. I'll never want anyone but you."

He sweeps me up into his arms, kissing me as he carries me toward his bed.

My head tilts to the side, and my gaze drifts across the room. It takes a moment for me to register what's different.

Then I see it.

The glass jug—the one that's been filled with coins for as long as I can remElara—is empty.

The engagement ring family tradition.

It feels like a lifetime ago when he told me about it, but it's only been two years. I remElara the jealousy I felt back then, imagining him with some future wife...wishing it could be me.

My arms tighten around him as his lips move over my skin.

Could it really be me?

Or am I just living a temporary dream on borrowed time?