The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 70

Tyson's fingers pumped inside me a few more times, curling to hit that spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids, but then he withdrew them abruptly, leaving me empty and aching. The sudden loss made me whimper, but before I could protest, his hands gripped my hips hard, spinning me around with aggressive force. My palms slapped against the wet tile to steady myself, the hot water still beating down on us like a punishing rain.

He pressed in close behind me, his scarred chest flush against my back, the heat of his body mingling with the steam. His lips found my shoulder first, kissing the damp skin there with a roughness that bordered on biting, then trailed up to my neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive curve. I tilted my head to give him better access, shivering despite the scalding spray.

One hand slid up, fingers threading through my soaked hair, tangling in the wet strands. He tugged gently at first, then with just enough pressure to arch my back, the pull sending a sharp sting through my scalp. That edge of pain mixed with the pleasure, drawing a low moan from my throat, raw and needy.

His other hand roamed down my side, calluses scraping over my ribs, my hip, until it reached my thigh. Lips still working my neck—now pressing open-mouthed kisses along my jaw—he nudged my legs wider with his knee, forcing them apart under the relentless water. I complied, spreading my stance, my pussy throbbing in anticipation.

With practiced ease, he shifted, one hand guiding his cock to my entrance from behind. The thick head pressed against my folds, teasing for a split second before he pushed forward, sliding inside me inch by inch. He was bigger than Toren or Talon—his girth stretched my walls to their limit, filling me so completely that I felt every ridge and vein as he sank deeper. A growl tore from my chest, primal and desperate, my body clenching around him in hunger.

He rumbled in approval, the sound vibrating against my skin, and then his tongue flicked out, licking a hot stripe up the side of my face, tasting the water and sweat mingled there. Slowly, he pulled back, almost all the way out, the drag making me keen with frustration. Then, with a savage thrust, he slammed back in, burying himself to the hilt.

The force rocked me forward, my cheek pressing into the tile as pain and pleasure exploded through me. I cried out, the sound echoing off the walls—sharp from the stretch, electric from the fullness—as my pussy fluttered around his cock, already chasing more.

Tyson's grip in my hair loosened, his fingers sliding free to cup over my mouth instead, pressing firm to stifle the screams building in my throat as he drove into me again. The heat of his palm muffled my cries, turning them into desperate, vibrating whimpers against his skin, the mix of pain from his size and the sharp pleasure of each thrust making my body jolt.

His breath hot against my ear, he whispered roughly, "Your cries like that... they make me so fucking hard. Can't wait to watch you shatter on my cock." The words sent a fresh wave of heat through me, my pussy clenching tighter around him in response.

I whimpered into his hand, the sound needy and broken, pleasure surging like fire in my veins, pooling low in my belly. His free hand snaked down between my thighs, fingers finding my clit swollen and slick, rubbing firm circles that made my hips buck back against him involuntarily.

All the while, his mouth stayed on my neck—teeth grazing, then sinking in with a bite that stung just right, followed by his tongue licking over the mark, sucking hard enough to leave bruises I'd feel tomorrow. He slammed into me harder, the rhythm brutal and unrelenting, his cock stretching me wide with every plunge, fingers working my clit without mercy, mouth devouring my skin.

It built too fast—the pain twisting into ecstasy, the heat of the water and his body overwhelming. I couldn't hold back. My climax tore through me like a storm, walls spasming around his thick length as I squirted, hot liquid gushing down my thighs, mixing with the shower spray. My scream pressed into his hand, muffled but raw, my entire body seizing in release.

My legs trembled violently, knees buckling under the intensity, but his arm locked around my waist, holding me upright against the wall. Without him, I'd have collapsed face-first onto the slick floor, lost in the aftershocks.

I felt his chest rumble with a low chuckle against my back, the vibration teasing my skin. He didn't stop—thrusting deep a few more times, grunting with each one, until his cock pulsed inside me. More heat flooded my pussy as he came, his body shuddering hard behind me, filling me with thick spurts of cum that leaked out around him, dripping down my legs with the water.

Tyson didn’t move for a long moment. His chest still pressed against my back, our breaths ragged, mingling with the hiss of the shower. The air between us pulsed with the quiet aftershock—raw, heavy, real.

When he finally pulled out, it was slow, careful. He stayed close though, one arm still locked around my waist as if letting me go wasn’t an option he was willing to consider. My legs trembled, useless beneath me, and he steadied me effortlessly.

Without a word, he reached for the shampoo. His large, scarred hands worked through my hair with an unexpected tenderness—slow circles against my scalp, rinsing away the heat and sweat until the water ran clear again. The gentleness in his touch didn’t match the man who’d just broken the wall behind me.

I leaned into him, eyes half-lidded, body limp and boneless. He caught every tilt of my weight, every shaky breath. When he moved on to the conditioner, his fingers combed through my tangled strands, patient and deliberate, as though memorizing me in another language—one that didn’t need words.

He soaped my shoulders, my arms, my back—his touch reverent, methodical. I tried to return the favor, my hands tracing over the thick cords of muscle along his chest, but my limbs wouldn’t cooperate. My body was spent, my mind hazy. My fingertips slipped uselessly against his skin, and he caught my hands, guiding them down for a moment before pressing them gently to his chest.

“Shh,” he murmured against my ear. “I’ve got you.”