I grip her wrist and still her movements. Her gaze meets mine as I slide her hand up and out of my jeans. I hitch her higher on my hips, pushing her against the wall, and then I lean back to undo the button on my jeans so I can unzip my fly. Maddie stares as the teeth of my zipper slide apart.
She’s still too clothed, but her red dress is bunched up at her waist and her panties are easy to tug to one side. I cover her with my hand, sliding up and down between her warm thighs. Water drips down my wrist, coating her. Her hands are on my shoulders and she uses them to brace herself, gripping me tighter as my finger dips inside of her.
I watch her lips fall open more the deeper my finger goes.
Her eyes flutter closed and her breathing hitches as I slide out and back in, getting her ready.
Time slows for a moment as I have her there, suspended on my hips, tight around my finger. I have her all to myself, and I don’t want to waste the opportunity.
My jeans and boxer briefs get shoved down a few inches further, just enough.
“Wrap your arms around my neck,” I tell her.
She holds up some of her weight, just enough to make it easy for me to guide myself inside her. A shallow inch becomes two and then she lets herself sink down onto me, slowly, slowly lowering as my world implodes.
She whimpers as I adjust her. It’s probably too much too soon. The angle and the position and the smooth tiled shower wall mean there’s no way for her to brace herself so we can do this the gentle way, but then that’s been the entire evening, hasn’t it? There’s been nothing gentle about our fight or the snowballs she pummeled me with.
I let her ride me in the shower. Water drips down her chest as she gets more comfortable, easing her thighs apart so she sinks down onto me even further.
Tight heat surrounds me. I pinch my eyes closed, trying to gather willpower. I thrust my hips and she whimpers. I focus on the sound of her breaths, the feel of her hands on my neck, the brush of her chest against mine as she leans in to tighten her hold around me. She’s off the wall now, depending on me to keep her up. My arms wrap around her waist and my heart pounds against her chest, heavy with longing.
We’re moving, meeting thrust for thrust. My arms lift her up and off me and then I start to pick up the rhythm, backing her up against the wall again, needing it for leverage so I can pump into her harder.
One hand cradles her neck. The other wraps around her waist. Her legs coil around me tighter, gripping my hips as she starts to slip. Our chests are crushed together, but I want to see more of her. I use my hand on her neck to tug her off me, gently enough that she doesn’t hit the tile. My eyes skate over her. She’s pink and flushed and dripping wet. I lose my mind thrusting into her, and her whimpers escape as if she can barely contain them.
I let go of her neck and drop my hand between her legs. It drives her crazy. The gentle strokes of my finger have her dragging in quick, ragged breaths. She’s so close, wrapping tight around me, arching her back and leaning her head against the tile. She releases a sharp cry and then I feel her splitting apart, wave after wave of pleasure pulsing through her, and I feel every bit of it.
I want to follow right after her. My body is begging for release, but I can’t end this. I can’t leave the warm shower and wake up to all that’s waiting for us outside the confines of this glass. So I drag it out, kiss her harder, keep my hand between her legs, and continue like that until she’s utterly spent, relaxing in my arms as if she’s about to slip out of my hold. Her eyes flick open and her expression is unguarded and vulnerable. I pull back to get a good look at her, my eyes dragging down her body as I thrust once…twice. Then, with a heavy groan, I give up the battle to stave off release another moment longer. She wraps herself tight around me as I come, waiting for me to say something after my thrusts stop and our heavy breathing overtakes the sound of the shower.
Gently, I set her down, making sure she has her footing before I reach for the body wash. I don’t try to meet her eyes or force her into any conversation as I pump gel onto my hand and use it to lather her up. I rush, and it’s out of necessity. Round one could turn into round two if I’m not careful, and I can already tell Maddie is exhausted. After I’ve washed us both off, I tell her to wait and step out to retrieve two towels. After passing her the first one, I use the second to dry off my hair then wrap it around my hips.