Beautiful Bastard

me back against the wall and a rush of warmth cascaded across my shoulder and down my chest, bringing me out of my haze. With our clothes still on, we had backed into the shower. We were getting soaked.
    We didn’t care.
    Her hands roamed my body frantically, yanking my shirt from my pants. With shaky hands she unbuttoned it, tearing off some buttons in her haste before sliding the wet fabric from my shoulders and tossing it outside the shower door.
    The wet silk of her dress clung to her, accentuating every curve. I traced the fabric along her breasts, feeling her tight nipples underneath. She moaned and brought her hand to rest on mine, guiding my movements.
    “Tell me what you want.” My voice was rough with need. “Tell me the things you want me to do to you.”
    “I don’t know,” she whispered into my mouth. “I just want to see you come apart.”
    I wanted to tell her that she was witnessing it now, and in all honesty she’d been watching it happen for weeks, but words fell away as I skimmed my hands down her sides and up under her dress. We teased and bit at each other’s mouths, the sound of the shower drowning out our moans. I slipped my hands into her panties and felt her warmth against my fingers.
    Needing to see more of her, I removed my fingers and slid them up to the hem of her dress. In one movement I pulled it up and over her head and stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of what lay underneath. Sweet Jesus. She was trying to kill me.
    I took a step back, leaning against the shower wall for support. She stood before me, soaking wet in white lace panties that tied on the side with a satin bow. Her nipples were hard and visible beneath the matching bra, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to touch them.
    “Fuck, you are so beautiful,” I said, running my fingertips along her taut breasts. A visible shiver ran through her and my hand traveled upward, across her collarbone, along her neck, and finally to her jaw.
    We could fuck right here, wet and slippery against the tile, and maybe we would later, but right now I wanted to take my time. My heart sped up at the thought that we had an entire night ahead of us. No rushing out or hiding. No bitter fighting and guilt. We had one whole night alone and I was going to spend the entire time with her . . . in a bed.
    I reached behind her and turned off the shower. She pushed against me, pressing her body further into mine. I cradled her face in my hands and kissed her deeply, my tongue sliding easily against hers. Her hips rocked against me and I pushed the shower door open, holding on to her as we stepped out.
    I couldn’t seem to stop touching her skin: down her back, over the gentle curve of her backside, back up again along her sides to her breasts. I needed to feel, to taste every inch of her skin.
    Our kiss never broke as we made our way out of the bathroom, stumbling clumsily while we desperately tore at our remaining clothes. I kicked off my wet shoes as I backed her into the bedroom, her hands raking along my stomach as she reached for my belt. Guiding her, I was quickly free of my pants and boxers. In a rush, I kicked them to the side, where they landed in a wet pile.
    I traced along her ribs with my knuckles before sliding to the clasp of her bra, releasing it and practically ripping it off her body. Pulling her closer, I groaned into her mouth as her hard nipples grazed my chest. The tips of her wet hair tickled my hands as they roamed her naked back, felt electric against my skin.
    The room was dark, the only illumination coming from the small sliver of light that crept out from the bathroom door and the moon in the night sky. The back of her knees hit the bed and my hands ran down to the last piece of clothing between us. My mouth moved from her lips, down her neck, and across her breasts and torso. I placed soft biting kisses across her stomach and finally to the white lace that hid the rest of her from view.
    Sliding to my knees in front of her, I looked up and met her eyes. Her hands were in my hair, running her fingers through the messy, wet strands.
    Reaching out, I took one delicate satin ribbon between my fingers and pulled, watching it slide off her hip. A look of confusion crossed her face as I continued running my fingers along the lace edge to the other side and did the same. The fabric fell from her body undamaged until she was completely naked before me. I might not have destroyed them, but she could be