He tasted so good, like an aphrodisiac dipped in chocolate. Sweet. Addictive. Better than anything she’d ever taken out of the oven. A helluva lot hotter too.

Steam rising around her, she stood on tiptoe and tried to get closer, wanting to absorb Wallaig into her skin. The shower head sputtered. Warm water washed over her and splashed on to him as she pressed her breasts to his chest. He growled in approval and big hands roaming, caressed the sensitive crease where the top of her thigh met her bottom. Pleasure coursed through her and…mercy, he was hot. All hard muscles and busy hands.

He took her mouth like he owned her, sharing his taste, delighting her with his possession. With a hum, Amantha kissed him back and sent her own hands wandering. She skimmed over his shoulders, then stroked along his biceps. So strong. So gorgeous with his messy auburn hair and the stubble on his angular face. She loved the feel of it—the brush of his beard against her lips as he shifted against her.

Gentling the kiss, he retreated. Not a lot. Hardly any distance at all, just enough to cup her breast. His hand engulfed her. Heat hit her like a sledgehammer, arching her spine, pushing her into his palm, forcing a plea from her throat.

Wallaig didn’t deny her. He explored her instead, adjusting the pressure, making delight danced along her spine. Gasping, she tried to catch her breath. He refused to let her, tangling their tongues, taking control until she surrendered. His murmured “good lass” was her reward. She shuddered in his arms. Closer…she needed him closer. Wanted him so deep inside her, she forgot where he ended and she began and—

He flicked her nipple, rolling the sensitive nub between her fingers.

Amantha cried out and arched her back, wanting more, needing less and…God, she didn’t know anymore. His scent caused her head to spin. His taste made her crave him more and…

What the hell was happening to her? She’d gone from cold to hot in an instant. Was so needy impatience grabbed the wheel, drove her straight into desire, then ran over common sense. She heard the crash. Felt the jolt. Heard mental barriers buckle as her mind gave way to her long-neglected libido.

Not the greatest plan in the history of womankind.

Sleeping with a man on a first date wasn’t the best idea. Caution always served a girl well. But as Wallaig caressed her, learning her body, sensitizing her skin, Amantha refused to play it safe. Not today. She yearned to be wild, if only for a little while. For once, she didn’t care what happened in the aftermath. Tomorrow would take care of itself. Right now, she needed Wallaig to take care of her. Longed for what his touch promised—the fast burn of frenzied bliss.

Fisting her hands in his hair, she hopped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. The quick shift took him by surprise. He cursed. She wiggled, adjusting their fit, pressing her core against his erection and—

Holy Moses. “Do that again.”

“Amantha, hold on a—”

Buried in bliss, she rolled her hips. Slick with need, she slid against him, bucking with every tiny jolt of pleasure. God, she was close. So close. He’d hardly touched her, and she was almost there, right on the edge, about to go over. Locking her ankles at his back, she upped the pace, reaching for the pinnacle.

With a snarl, Wallaig grabbed her hips. Calloused fingers on her bottom, he broke her rhythm. “Bloody hell, Amantha. Slow down.”

“No,” she gasped, flexing her thighs, fighting his control.

“You’re rushing it, lass.”

“I know, but I just…” She moaned, arching in pleasure as he turned and pressed her back to the shower wall. “I can’t help it. I’m so close. I need more.”

Sharp teeth nipped her pulse point. “You get what I give you.”

“Then give me everything, Wallaig.” Breathing hard, she squirmed, desperate for relief. “Pleeease.”

“Fuck. I thought to be gentle with you the first time.”

“Next time,” she whispered, her orgasm glimmering just out of reach. “Next time.”

“Deal, but first…” Grabbing her foot, he unlocked her ankles from the base of his spine. “You’re going to give me a taste.”

Delivered on a growl, his words sounded ominous. His actions backed up the treat as he flattened his palm on her breastbone, immobilizing her against the wall, then slid down her body. He paid homage along the way—nipping the tip of her breast, planting kisses on her belly, stroking over the curve of her bottom—before kneeling at her feet. Hooking her legs over his shoulders, he spread her thighs wide, opening her to his touch.

Hot breath rushed over her core.

His tongue lashed her, licking into her folds. Back pressed to the wall, imprisoned by the position, Amantha keened as ecstasy pulsed through her. She grew slicker. Wallaig groaned and delved deeper, leaving no part of her untouched. No part of her untasted. Over and over. Again and again. He took what he wanted, stopping to suck on her clitoris, pushing her so high she begged for the pleasure.

He brought his fingers into play. One thrust deep. A second joined the first, stroking against a sensitive spot deep inside her.

She tightened around him.

He rubbed harder.

Amantha moaned. “Wallaig.”

“Such a good lass.” Tugging at her folds with his teeth, he played, circling her nub with the tip of his tongue. Another thrust. Two more, harder than the last. Monstrous pressure coiled inside her. Her hips jerked. “Aye, just right. You’re perfect, kazlita. Everything I’ve always wanted.”

“Oh, please, now. I need it now.”

With a hum, he twisted his fingers. “Come, Amantha. Let me hear you scream.”

His guttural command unleashed a torrent inside her. White light flashed behind her closed eyelids. The orgasm dragged her up and over, ripping her from the real world. With a high-pitched wail, she hurdled into the next. Here and now ceased to exist. Nothing mattered but Wallaig. The sound of his voice inside her head. His hot mouth against her skin. The stroke of his fingers and lash of his tongue.

Using his teeth, he nipped her gently.

She came again, lost to ecstasy, anchored by nothing but the hard hands holding her up. She heard him groan. Felt him shift, then stand. Amantha whispered his name. He accepted her invitation and, supporting her in his arms, wrapped her legs around him. Surrounded by him, she offered him her lips. He invaded her mouth. Deep. Fast. Brutal. A kiss of a conqueror, a man bent on possession as he set himself against her and pushed inside. Her muscles stretched. She panted in alarm. He didn’t give her time to adjust. Showing no mercy, he pressed in, making her take him.

Bending her knee, he pushed her leg up and out, opening her wider. His hips shifted. He slid deeper and—

Another round of bliss blasted through her.

She pulsed around him.

Baring his teeth, Wallaig didn’t stop. He took her hard instead. Advance and retreat. His hardness claiming her softness. Letting her know she belonged to him as he made love to her against the shower wall, dragging her toward the ledge until she fell into the abyss, drunk on pleasure.