Totally Yours

Totally Yours
His words hit me like a shockwave.

I reached past him, twisted the shower handle, and warm water crashed down—hot and immediate, plastering Crane’s dark hair to his forehead, streaming down the groove of his spine, slicking the places where our bodies met. He gasped at the sudden heat. So did I. The steam rose around us like a veil.

My grip on his hips tightened. Fingers digging into the lean muscle. I lined myself up again—the head of my cock finding his entrance through the slick mess of lube and water—and then I pushed.

One slow, merciless thrust.

He took me to the hilt in a single motion. The sound that tore from his throat wasn’t a moan. It was a sob, a thank you, something so raw and grateful that my chest cracked open. His body clenched around me, tight as a fist, and I had to lock my knees to keep from finishing right there.

“Thank you…” Crane’s voice splintered against the tile. His whole frame quivered, muscles fluttering along his back, his thighs, the delicate curve of his ass pressed flush against my hips. “Oh my God, Elias, thank you for always taking good care of me.”

The words hit differently than anything else he’d ever said in bed.

I’d heard him moan, beg, curse, sob my name. But this—this gratitude—undid something in me. My throat went tight. I leaned forward, chest to his back, and pressed my lips to the water-beaded skin of his shoulder.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” The words came out low and rough, almost a growl. “This hole is made for me. Made for my cock only.”

“Yes.” His response was immediate. Breathless. “Yes, Eli. It’s for you only.”

Eli. He only called me that when he was stripped down to nothing, when every guard and pretense had been fucked out of him. The nickname landed somewhere in my gut and coiled there, hot and possessive.

“You are mine,” I howled.

The words ricocheted off the bathroom tiles. I pulled back until just the tip remained inside him, then slammed forward again. Harder. The water beat down on both of us, drowning out the slick sounds of our bodies, but I could feel everything—the drag of his walls, the flutter of his muscles, the way he pushed back to meet each thrust like he couldn’t get enough.

My mouth found his earlobe. I sucked it between my lips, bit down gently, and Crane made that sound again—that moan—high and desperate and completely wrecked.

I shifted my hips. Changed the angle.

And found it.

That spot inside him, the one that made his vision go white and his voice fail. I knew the moment I hit it because his entire body seized. His hands scrabbled against the tile. His head fell back against my shoulder, throat bared and vulnerable, water streaming down his Adam’s apple.

“There.” The word was barely a whisper. “Elias, right there—”

“I know.” I drove into that same spot again. And again. “I know exactly what you need.”

The shower drummed against us. Steam filled my lungs. Every nerve in my body had narrowed to the point where we connected—the heat of him around me, the grip of his body yielding and demanding all at once. My rhythm turned punishing. Not the gentle tide from this morning, not the teasing pace from before. This was something else. Something feral.

I wanted to brand myself inside him.

Crane’s moans shifted into something closer to chanting. Words that didn’t quite form but carried meaning anyway. His body spoke for him—the clench of his muscles, the arch of his spine, the way his hips rocked back to meet every thrust like he was trying to take me deeper, impossibly deeper.

“You take me so well,” I growled into his ear. “Every inch. Every time.”

“All of you.” He choked on the words. “I want all of you—”

“You have all of me.”

I pulled back and slammed home. The tile shuddered under our combined weight. My fingers left bruises on his hips—I’d apologize later, kiss them better, but right now the only thing that mattered was the pulsing heat building at the base of my spine and the way Crane’s body was starting to tremble uncontrollably.

Water pooled in the dip of his lower back. I watched it gather and spill as I fucked into him, mesmerized by the sight—my cock disappearing into his body, the flare of his hips, the way his hole stretched to accommodate me. Everything slick and glistening and ours.

“I want you to come first this time,” I said. The words came out strained, my own control fraying at the edges. “Stroke yourself. Now.”

His hand flew to his cock without hesitation. I felt the shift in his body when he gripped himself, the way his walls tightened around me in response. He stroked in time with my thrusts, fast and desperate, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Oh god—Elias—I’m gonna—”

“Do it.” I pistoned into him, targeting that same spot, the one that made his knees buckle. “Come for me. Now, princess.”

He shattered.

His body clamped down around me with a force that stole my breath. A guttural cry ripped from his chest, echoing off the walls, and I felt the pulse of his release through his entire frame—the jerk of his hips, the collapse of his spine, the way his head dropped forward and his shoulders heaved. His release painted the tile in streaks, making me shudder by just looking at it.

The sight of him coming undone, the feel of his body milking my cock, the sound of my name on his lips—it was too much. Everything I’d been holding back surged forward.

My rhythm fractured. Stuttered. Became something frantic.

“Fuck—Crane—I’m—”

I buried myself deep and let go.

The orgasm ripped through me like a current, hot and blinding, emptying into him pulse after pulse. I felt each spasm in my thighs, my gut, the base of my spine. My forehead dropped to his shoulder. My hips kept moving, small helpless thrusts, riding out the last waves of pleasure as I filled him.

The water beat down. The steam swirled. Neither of us spoke.

For a long moment the only sounds were our breathing—ragged and uneven—and the endless drum of the shower. I stayed inside him, unwilling to pull out, unwilling to break the connection. His body still fluttered around me in tiny aftershocks.

Finally I pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. “I’ve got you.”

A laugh. Weak and watery. “You’ve had me since the moment I woke up.”

I smiled against his skin. “And I’ll have you again. After we actually shower.”

“Mmm.” He turned his head just enough to catch my eye. Water clung to his lashes. “Promise?”