The water was already running hot when I pulled you in, not just the temperature, but the heat in your eyes, in your grip, in the way your body pinned mine to the cold tile like you’d been waiting all fucking day to get me under you.

You didn’t waste time.

My hand gripped your hair, tugging just enough to bare your throat to my mouth, my tongue tracing the droplets that slid down your skin, licking, biting, growling low like the animal I knew you were.

“Did you think we were done?” I rasped against you neck.
“Shower’s not to clean you up, sweetheart… it’s to make a mess I can rinse off.”

Then my fingers were between your legs — again.
I didn’t ease in. I slid two inside you with the kind of confidence that only comes from knowing exactly how to wreck a woman. My thumb circled your clit with dirty purpose, and my free hand… fuck… it was braced against the wall, caging you in.

You were already moaning — breathless, whimpering, water pounding on your back — but I wasn’t satisfied until you were grinding against my palm like a woman possessed.

I watched your face.
You loved it.
And when I felt you start to clench, hips bucking, thighs shaking — I pulled away. Just. Like. That.

“Not yet,” I growled, grabbing your hips and spinning you to face the wall. “You don’t get to cum until you scream.”

And then I entered you — hot, hard, so fucking ready — I slid between your legs, pressing against your slickness, teasing, coating my length in you, then slamming in with a deep, savage thrust that knocked the breath from your lungs.

You screamed my name, loud enough to echo off the tiles.

My hands gripped your hips, pulling you back into every brutal stroke. I didn’t just fuck you— I took. Your hair twisted in my fist, the other smacking your ass as water poured down both of us, soaking the sounds of skin on skin, gasps, groans, filthy praise growled into your ear.

“Such a filthy girl… dripping for me…”
“You love being used, don’t you?”
“I could fuck you like this for hours.”

You begged.
You begged, again and again…

And when I wrapped my arm around your waist, fingers working your clit again as I pounded into you, there was no stopping it — you came hard, convulsing around me, moaning like a woman unhinged.

I followed with a roar — hot, deep, feral — collapsing against your back, both of us shuddering, breathless, utterly wrecked under the pounding spray.

We stayed like that for a moment — chests heaving, legs trembling, water washing away the evidence but not the feeling.

Then your mouth found my ear.

“Next round’s in the bedroom,” you whispered. “Now it’s my turn...”