RAYNE
Reid carried me against his chest, his arms a possessive weight that reminded me I was still his, regardless of the words I’d thrown at him earlier.
He placed me in the shower, his hands lingering on my skin as he peeled away the ruins of my dress.
He stepped in behind me, the spray of the water turning his skin into a map of glistening white.
He began to wash me, his movements slow and sensual.
His thumbs teased my n*****s, rubbing them until they peaked again, a quiet ache returning to my core.
"You're so beautiful. So soft," he murmured, his voice thick with a reverence that felt more dangerous than his anger.
He ran his soapy hands over the curve of my hips, the slope of my back, memorizing me.
He claimed my lips in a hungry kiss, and I moaned into his mouth, my fing
