Chapter 1: Shower of Ecstasy
Steam thickened the air, clinging to the shower’s glass walls like a second skin. Damon stood beneath the relentless spray, head bowed, water sluicing over the hard planes of his shoulders and back. The sound was a constant, drumming roar. He sighed, rolling his neck as tension began to melt away. Sanctuary.
The glass door slid open with a whisper. Evie hesitated on the threshold, the cooler air from the bathroom swirling the steam around her bare legs. Damon didn’t turn, but a slow smile touched his lips, visible in the distorted reflection on the fogged glass.
"Lost?" His voice, low and rough from the water’s heat, cut through the drumming spray.
"Maybe." Her own voice sounded breathless already. She stepped inside, the heat and humidity instantly enveloping her, slick against her skin. The door hissed shut behind her, sealing them in the warm, wet world.
He finally turned. Water plastered his dark hair to his forehead, droplets catching on his lashes above eyes that were suddenly, intensely blue in the misty gloom. They tracked her as she moved under the spray beside him, flinching slightly at the initial heat. His gaze was pure possession, an unspoken command that made her stomach flip.
"Cold feet?" he teased, reaching out. Not to pull her closer, but to trace a single, deliberate finger down the slope of her shoulder. A shiver raced through her that had nothing to do with temperature.
"Never with you," she breathed, the steam filling her lungs. Her hand found his chest, slick and hot beneath her palm, feeling the powerful thud of his heart. Solid. Real.
His hand slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Water cascaded over them both, plastering her hair to her back, her skin sliding against his. The heat was everywhere, inside and out. He dipped his head, his breath hot against her ear despite the water. "Prove it."
Before she could even gasp, his hands shifted. One large palm pressed firmly between her shoulder blades. The other gripped her hip, hard. He spun her, smoothly, effortlessly. Her breath hitched, sharp and loud over the water’s roar, as her chest met the cool, wet tile. The sudden contrast against her heated skin was a shock. She braced her hands against the slick surface.
"Dam—"
His body covered her back. Hard, unyielding muscle against the softness of her. He pinned her there. Not cruelly, but with absolute certainty. His grip on her hip tightened, fingers digging in just enough to claim, to hold her immobile against the tile and against himself. His other hand slid from her back, tracing a possessive path down her spine, over the curve of her ass, then back up to tangle in her wet hair, gently fisting it, tilting her head to the side.
No warning. His mouth found the exposed line of her neck, just below her ear. Not a kiss. A devouring. His tongue traced the sensitive cord of muscle, hot and demanding, before sucking the skin between his teeth. She cried out, the sound swallowed by the steam and the water crashing down. Her knees buckled. Only his iron grip on her hip and the pressure of his body kept her upright.
He didn’t relent. His mouth moved lower, teeth scraping her shoulder blade, tongue swirling over the water-slicked skin. His hand in her hair kept her head tilted, vulnerable to his exploration. The hand on her hip slid lower, fingers splaying possessively over the swell of her thigh before delving inexorably inward.
"God, Damon…" It was a moan, half-drowned, half-desperate.
He lifted his head just enough for his lips to brush her ear again. His voice was a dark rumble against her skin. "Tell me what you want, Evie." His fingers found her core, already slick with more than water, and stroked, slow, deliberate, maddening. "Tell me."
"I want…" She gasped as his fingers circled, pressed. "I want… you."
"Where?" His teeth nipped her earlobe. "How?"
"Here. Now." She pushed back against him, seeking more pressure, more friction, anything to ease the relentless ache he was stoking. "Please. Just… please."
His low chuckle vibrated against her back. "That's my girl."
He shifted then. The hand in her hair loosened, sliding down to join the other, both now gripping her hips firmly, anchoring her against the tile. He nudged her legs wider with a knee. Then he was there. Thick, hard, pressing against her entrance. No preamble. No gentle easing. One powerful thrust buried him inside her to the hilt.
She cried out again, a raw sound ripped from her throat as she stretched around him, the sudden, overwhelming fullness stealing her breath. Water pounded down on them, mingling with the slick heat between her legs. He held himself deep for a moment, letting her adjust, letting her feel the sheer, uncompromising invasion. His breath was harsh in her ear.
Then he moved. Withdrawing slowly, torturously, almost all the way out before surging back in with a force that slammed her chest harder against the tile. A rhythm began. Deep, relentless, piston-like drives that pushed her further up the wall with every thrust. His grip on her hips was bruising now, holding her exactly where he wanted her, taking exactly what he wanted. There was no finesse. Just raw, primal possession. The slap of wet skin against wet skin echoed beneath the shower's roar.
He bent over her, his chest pressing against her back, his mouth finding her neck again, biting, sucking, marking her. His thrusts became faster, harder, driving her relentlessly towards the edge. The friction, the pressure, the overwhelming sense of being claimed, consumed – it coiled tight and hot deep within her belly.
"Look at me, Evie," he growled against her skin.
She managed to turn her head, straining against his weight. His eyes met hers, blue flames burning through the steam. Fierce, demanding, utterly focused on her. Seeing her come undone.
That look shattered her. Pleasure detonated, white-hot and searing. Wave after wave crashed through her, tearing a ragged scream from her throat as her body clenched around him, trembling violently against the tile, against him. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only feel the devastating, endless pulse of her release.
He didn’t stop. He drove into her through the shudders, his own rhythm becoming erratic, frantic. A guttural groan tore from his chest, raw and unrestrained, as he slammed deep one final time, burying himself, his body jerking against hers as his own climax ripped through him. She felt the hot pulse deep inside as his grip on her hips tightened impossibly further, holding her pinned as he emptied himself.
The water continued its relentless drumming. Steam swirled thick and heavy. The only other sounds were their harsh, ragged breathing, mingling with the splash of water on tile and skin.
Slowly, the tension bled from his body. His grip on her hips softened, became less an anchor and more a steadying hold. He stayed buried within her for a long moment, his forehead resting against her wet shoulder blade, his breath still coming in heavy gusts against her skin.
Evie trembled. Not just the aftershocks, but a deep, bone-deep trembling. Her legs felt liquid. Her arms, braced against the tile, shook with the effort of holding herself up. She was utterly spent. Raw. Exposed.
Damon must have felt it. He withdrew slowly, carefully, supporting her weight as he turned her in his arms. Her legs gave out completely. He caught her easily, lifting her against his chest, cradling her as the water sluiced over them both. He pressed a kiss to her damp temple, his lips surprisingly gentle against her skin.
"Alright?" His voice was rough, softer now. His thumb brushed a stray, wet strand of hair from her cheek.
She nodded weakly against his chest, unable to find words. Her entire body felt like it had been remade. Every nerve ending hummed, oversensitive and alive. The trembling subsided slowly, replaced by a profound, boneless lassitude. She clung to him, her face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing in the clean scent of soap mingled with the uniquely male scent that was just him.
His arms tightened around her. He adjusted the spray, letting cooler water mix in, soothing her flushed skin. He didn't speak. Just held her. His large hand smoothed down her back in slow, calming circles.
Minutes stretched. The water cooled. The frantic energy of moments before dissolved into a heavy, sated quiet. Evie’s trembling finally stilled, replaced by a deep, liquid warmth that had nothing to do with the water. The frantic pulse in her veins slowed to a languid thrum.
She tilted her head back to look at him. His gaze met hers, still intense, but the fierce possession had softened into something warmer. Smug satisfaction, yes, but also a quiet watchfulness. He searched her face.
"Okay?" he asked again, quieter this time.
A small, shaky smile touched her lips. She managed a nod. "Yeah." Her voice was a husky whisper. "More than okay."
His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. The ghost of his own smile touched his lips. He dipped his head, claiming her mouth in a kiss that was slow, deep, and unexpectedly tender. A claiming of a different kind. A silent reassurance amidst the steam.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. Water streamed down their faces. "Good," he murmured, the word vibrating against her skin. His arms tightened possessively. "Because I’m not nearly done with you tonight."
The quiet certainty in his voice sent a fresh, delicious shiver through her, entirely different from the trembling before. Anticipation, raw and sweet, curled low in her belly. She pressed closer, her lips finding the pulse point at the base of his throat. Her own voice was a soft promise against his wet skin.
"I know."