As I stand there, speechless, I hear a low groan nearby. It’s coming from the open bathroom door, which is wafting steam and the sound of running water into the room.
Before I can think it through, I find myself drawn, as if by magnets, over to the doorway.
Nero is naked inside.
I freeze. He’s standing with his back to me under the shower jet spray, water running in rivulets over his bare shoulders. The open plan shower means, surprise, I have a perfect view of his ripped, muscular body.
Every inch.
My blood runs hotter. My pulse kicks. I know I should leave but I can’t for the life of me move a muscle.
His body is incredible. Sculpted from marble. His shoulders are huge, the muscles along them flexing as he reaches up to run his hand through his hair. My gaze travels down, along the ridges and contours of his toned back and ass. His legs are long and muscular.
I can see the ridges of definition in his back. And that ass…
He lets out another groan, slamming one hand against the wall. And that’s when I realize, he has the other hand wrapped around his cock. His grip looks tight as he works it from base to tip, over and over again. He’s jerking off furiously under the spray, making low guttural noises with every motion.
I can’t look away.
Blood rushes to my cheeks—and then lower. My thighs clench, heat spiraling to my core. His movements are so brash, so undeniably sexual. It’s raw, animalistic.
And I can’t get enough.
Desire aches inside me, a need that rivals the one I have for oxygen. It’s powerful and all-consuming.
And it only gets worse as his pace builds, his groans growing more guttural as he builds to his climax. Muscles bunch up and loosen again all over his body, and I can’t help thinking about him thrusting into me, right here in the shower. Using those same muscles to take me. Claim me. Groan that desperate tune in my ear.
What would it feel like, to have that ferocious sexuality trained on me, full force?
My legs are weak, watching as his movements grow jerky and labored. I find myself panting in time with him, desire rising, coursing in my veins until—
He turns.
Oh my God!
Our eyes lock as he climaxes with a groan, still pumping his cock as ribbons of come spurt into the shower spray.
Still, he doesn’t look away.
I’m shaken to my core. Wound tight. Aching for my own release, and fuck, it’s the most erotic moment of my life…
But that passes when his face morphs into an expression of cold amusement. He turns off the shower and grabs a towel from the rack. But he doesn’t attempt to cover himself with it. Instead, he rubs his over his head, drying his hair. He wants me to look at his naked body.
And damn, if I do.
“You like what you see, Princess?” He’s still hard, amazingly, and I swallow around a lump in my throat because the answer is yes, even though I’d never tell him that. “I had no idea you were such a dirty little voyeur.”
I feel shame burn through me at his words but fight to keep my face neutral. I can’t let him see that his words have such a strong effect on me.
“You wish,” I reply breezily, even though I’m wet. “I came to update you on what I’ve learned about McKenna. There’s a hunting party this weekend, some secluded lodge. A dozen guys and their wives. It could be the perfect opportunity to get close to him. A captive audience. And I know how you like those.”
I’m amazed I can keep my voice steady, after what just happened. I feel like I got hit by a truck—the force of Nero’s sexual power.
“That’s all?” Nero asks, with a dangerous smile. “Or do you need to come clean up?” he gestures to the shower, and I scowl.
“Never in a million years.”
I turn on my heel and leave, racing back to my own room. I slam the door behind me and sink against it, taking a moment to catch my breath.