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By (user no longer on site) OP
7 days ago
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My legs were shaking.
Every thrust from him slammed into me with force and purpose, setting my nerves on fire. My palms were flat against the slick tile, my body bent forward, completely open to him, for him. He filled me so perfectly—so deeply—it felt like he was taking something from me with every move.
Like he was taking me of breath, of thought, of anything that wasn’t him.
And I loved it.
The heat from the water was nothing compared to the heat radiating off his body, chest pressed to my back, skin-on-skin, steam rising all around us like smoke from a blaze that wouldn’t stop burning.
I heard footsteps again—another person walking past. Then stopping.
Their silhouette hung just outside the fogged glass.
Watching.
I should’ve cared. I should’ve stopped. But all it did was send another jolt of lust down my spine. I pressed back into him, giving them a full view of what we were doing.
What he was doing to me.
He leaned in close, mouth at my ear. “You like them watching, don’t you?”
I moaned. “Yes.”
“You want them to see you take my cock?” he growled.
“Yes—fuck—don’t stop.”
His hand slid around to my throat again, holding me upright, his grip possessive but careful. Like I was something he owned, and he was never letting go. My head rested back on his shoulder, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut as he drove into me with powerful, ruthless rhythm.
I could feel him—every inch.
Deep, thick, perfect.
His other hand slid around to my chest, fingertips grazing my nipples, teasing me as his hips rocked against mine harder, faster.
I was so close.
Trembling.
Helpless under him.
“I want you to come for me,” he said. “Now.”
And I did.
God, I did.
It tore through me like lightning—my whole body tensing, mouth open in a cry I didn’t even try to hide. The sound of it echoed through the showers, mixing with the rush of water and the groan of metal pipes. I grabbed at the wall, at him, at anything, as I shattered from the inside out.
And he kept going.
A few more strokes—hard, deep, brutal—and then he grunted against my neck, voice breaking as he came inside me. I felt every pulse of him, hot and real, his body jerking with the force of it.
We stayed there for a moment—his chest pressed to my back, our breath ragged, bodies slick with sweat and water. The world outside the shower didn’t exist. Just the water. Just the steam. Just us.
He slid out slowly, and I turned to face him, chest heaving. His hand cupped my jaw, thumb brushing my bottom lip as he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered.
“You’re mine now,” he said.
I nodded, voice gone.
Because I was.
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