Chapter 9

 

 

Gianna undressed and stepped inside of the stand-up shower, feeling the warm water massage her tired body. Before bed, this was the routine for her and tonight wasn’t the exception. She especially needed it after being on her feet all day at the bakery. She closed her eyes while the water rained down on her hair and when her strands were fully saturated, she threw her head back, opened her eyes again and screamed.

Ramsey was standing just outside the glass doors like a shadow, completely naked and waiting.

“Ramsey!” Gianna panted, her heart beating so fast, it threw her breathing pattern off. “How—how long have you been standing there?”

“Too long,” he said, opening the door, joining her in the shower, immediately drawing her close to him, so close that his thickness was pressed snugly against her midsection.

Gianna placed kisses on his thick pecs, enjoying his hairy chest before looking up into his eyes as warm water connected their souls. Something else was about to deepen that connection – something only he could give her.

They were about to heat things up even more and it had nothing to do with the water’s temperature.

He took her mouth with enough skill and precision to immediately steal her tongue and she reciprocated by taking his, moaning desperately, feeling his hands grip and squeeze her backside. Feelings of submission – of letting go and freeing herself to all the love he had to give – immediately took over her mind. And then she heard the primitive groans he made, indicating his need was a raw, potent one. His groans alone made her body temperature soar a few degrees.

He temporarily broke the connection with her mouth to savor her neck. His lips grazed her breasts, sucked water from their peaks before he lowered himself to his knees, painted kisses on her stomach before resting his head there. Water rained down on him and he stayed there, on his knees. Face to belly. Hands still on her backside. Bonding. Absorbing love. Bathing in joy. Drowning in desire.

Without warning, he touched her most intimate spot. Made her gasp. Made her legs shake, then he quickly stood up to stabilize her.

“You okay?” he asked, reading her. Drops of water fell from the tip of his nose. Water drenched his hair and beard.

“Yes, I’m okay,” she said, breathless.

“Then, why did your whole body jump when I touched you here?” he asked, reaching to touch her there yet again with his middle finger.

For a second time, her body shook. Pleasure quaked through her. “I guess I’m just super-sensitive.” She swallowed hard. “I heard that was—um—normal during pregnancy.”

He deliberately fiddled with her femininity, playing her like an instrument while staring at her face, watching her attempt to control the pleasure he was delivering. He saw the moment she lost herself. Saw the blush creep over her face. Studied how her eyes closed. Saw a grimace. One of pleasure, not pain. She gasped. Moaned. Bit down on her lip. Gasped some more. Her fingers twitched as she held on to his wet, hairy arms.

“Ram—Ramsey,” she uttered in a soft, vacillating breath.

He took the moment to connect their mouths – suctioning her bottom lip into his mouth while still looking at her possessively, then closed his eyes and went for the whole shebang – both lips, tongue, her whole mouth – kissing her hungrily while holding her steady between his muscular arms. He took a few steps back until his legs made contact with the built-in, tiled bench in the corner of the shower. He sat down, prompting her to straddle him. He carefully held on to her while she lowered herself to the size of him. Her legs circled around his waist as he filled her. Stretched her. Stretched some more. Filled her cave to capacity and then some.

She gasped.

He groaned.

She gasped more. Her nails automatically dug into his shoulders.

Their visions held for a moment after he was completely embedded inside of her – to the hilt with nowhere else to go although he could’ve gone further. He absorbed the feeling of being connected to her this way. He squeezed warm, wet flesh. She rocked her hips. He grazed her neck with his teeth. Circled his tongue in different spots. Licked water from her lips. Sucked on her tongue. Kissed her. He pulled back to see her face. He loved to see her in the heat of passion, on the verge of falling off of the cliff. He was right behind her. Falling.

“My sweet Gianna,” he whispered in a way that made her eyes instantly connect with his. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he told her. He captured her lips, tasting her sweetness. He felt the way her body squeezed him, released then squeezed again. He liked it. He tightened his arms around her, maintaining a closer fit, then whispered how much she turned him on as the tension inside of her collided with the mounting pressure building inside of him until she erupted the same time he did, making their own waves in the shower.

She screamed.

He wouldn’t let go.

She held on. More screams followed.

He still wouldn’t let go.

Arms around his neck, she touched her face to his, stroking his beard with her nose then kissed his wet lips briefly. She looked at him. Smiled. “I’m in love with you,” she panted. Every time they kissed, touched, made love or eye contact, she fell deeper.

“I’m in love with you, too, sweetness.”

Water sprayed down on them while they stayed intimately linked together. Mind, body, spirit. As close as a man and woman could get.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he admitted.

“Then, don’t let me go,” she told him kissing him all over again.

Ramsey was more than willing to go for seconds.