CHAPTER 13.

OLIVIA’S POV

Immediately the door slammed shut, my back hit it, the vibration humming through me as Theo’s lips fully claimed mine. I came here for a little teaser, but now… now I’ve had two orgasms and I’m still starving for him.

His hand slid up my spine until he found my zipper. My dress fell to the floor, leaving me bare, my panties already abandoned somewhere in the living room. My breasts were out, flushed and aching, and Theo’s gaze raked down my body like fire.

He stopped on my chest.

One second he was just looking, devouring me with those sharp, dark eyes, and the next his mouth was on me. Hot and demanding. His lips wrapped around my nipple while his hand cupped and kneaded the other. A cry ripped from my throat, sharp and needy. I’d never thought boob play could send me spiraling like this, but…..God! he knew exactly what he was doing. Every flick of his tongue, every tug of his lips, was a direct line to the heat pooling between my legs.

Theo had already dragged me through paradise with just his fingers and mouth. The least I could do was return the favor. My trembling hands slid to his belt, fumbling with the buckle, desperate to feel him in my hands.

“No, no.” He pulled back. His lips brushed mine a little. “I want to take care of you tonight.”

And then, before I could argue, his arms were around me.

He lifted me like I weighed nothing, my legs instinctively wrapping around his neck, my body pressed against the hard wall of his chest. I clung to him, heart pounding, as he carried me through the bathroom door. The steam from the already running shower curled in the air, warm and damp, wrapping us in a cocoon of heat.

The moment my back hit the cold tile, I gasped. But then the water was on me, cascading down, mixing with the heat of his body, with the fire still raging inside me.

Theo’s hands spread soap across my skin, but it didn’t feel like cleansing. It felt like worship. Like torture. His palms glided over my collarbone, down to my breasts, circling, teasing, massaging until I was whimpering, tiptoeing against him just to chase more contact. My nipples ached under his touch, slippery from the gel and the water rinsing it away before he started again. Over and over, relentless.

My head fell back against the tile, eyes squeezed shut. “Theo…” His name broke from me like a plea.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

His palms slid down my stomach, over my hips, before he turned me around. The gel dripped between my shoulder blades as his hands spread over my back, sliding down to cup my ass, kneading it, spreading the gel over every inch.

He bent to kiss the back of my neck, his breath hot, his chest firm against my soapy skin. His hand trailed between my thighs, teasing, rubbing softly but never giving me what I desperately wanted.

I pressed back into him, aching, needy.

“Patience,” he whispered against my ear, his fingers sliding over my folds at last, stroking me with slow, devastating precision.

The gel made every movement slicker, more intense, and I had nothing to hold onto except the wall and the way his hand owned me completely.

And then his hand slipped lower, parting me, fingers sliding inside with an ease that made my knees shake. The combination, the water rushing down my body, his mouth dragging against my neck, his hand owning every inch of me, was too much. He moved inside me slowly, deliberately, matching the rhythm of his thumb stroking where I needed him most.

I was gone.

Utterly gone.

Every sound I made was swallowed by the water, by the press of his lips against my throat, by the way my body fought to arch closer despite being pinned between him and the wall.

I was on fire.