She does not

Emily didn’t even hear him move.

One second, the water roared over her shoulders, her fingers barely teasing between her thighs—heat thrumming like a live wire through her. The next, his hand gripped her bare waist, strong, sudden, possessive.

She froze.

Only for a moment.

Her skin tensed where his fingers pressed. Her heart pounded in her throat. But she didn’t pull away.

She couldn’t.

The curtain behind them drifted slightly as steam billowed around their bodies, and his other hand was already moving—sliding down her hip, under the curve of her ass, tugging her bikini bottom aside with one practiced motion.

Her pussy was on display now, lips glistening with water and slick arousal, flushed pink, open. She felt the air hit her freshly exposed slit, then the thick, searing heat of his cock—pressed between her cheeks, the head nudging into the slick crease as he ground against her.

He didn’t tease.

He didn’t ask.

He rubbed slowly, letting his length glide between the soft swell of her ass cheeks, then aligned himself. The blunt head of his cock nudged her entrance—hot, wide, unyielding.

Her voice cracked out of her: “Please.”

It wasn’t loud. But it was needy. ****.

Her hands braced against the tile. Her breasts hung heavy, nipples soaked and stiff in the chill spray. Water coursed down her back, down the crevice of her spine, but all she felt was him.

Then he thrust.

One brutal, claiming motion—his cock shoved deep inside her, parting her slick folds, bottoming out with a sound that echoed off the walls.

Her hands slapped the tile.

A choked scream caught in her throat as her body stretched around him—too much, too fast, and exactly what her soaked cunt had been aching for. The wet slap of skin against skin echoed as he withdrew only slightly, then slammed back into her again.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice raw, hips slapping her ass. “So fucking tight.”

Emily moaned—louder this time—face turned against the wall, mouth open. Her breasts jostled with every thrust, heavy and tender, her nipples bouncing with each harsh snap of his hips. Her legs trembled beneath her, the burn of pressure mounting fast.

He didn’t slow down.

His grip bruised her waist, yanking her back onto his cock over and over, the wet sound of their bodies colliding louder than the falling water.

Her bikini bottoms dangled uselessly from one hip, soaked and forgotten. The thin red triangle barely hid anything now—just a wet scrap clinging to her skin while her pussy got pounded.

Each thrust **** a gasp, a whimper, a sound she couldn’t suppress. Water splashed violently around their ankles. Her thighs were streaked with slick arousal and the first signs of her orgasm threatening to crest.

She could feel him swelling inside her.

Could feel her own walls fluttering, gripping him harder.

And still he fucked her—harder, faster, his cock dragging against the most sensitive places inside her, battering her toward the edge.

She was going to come. Hard.

And he hadn’t even touched her clit.