Shower Sex Quotes

“I want a beer. I want a giant, ice-cold bottle of beer and shower sex.”
― Nora Roberts, Chasing Fire

“She wraps her legs around my waist, and I walk us slowly down the hall.
"Mmm, wait," she whines against my mouth. "I haven't showered. I'm so gross, and I don't..."
She trails off as I turn into my bathroom, then set her down. She shuffles her bare feet against the gray stone tile, an inquisitive look on her face as she looks around the narrow space bathed in neutral hues.
I push open the glass door and turn on the shower. Water cascades from the waterfall showered.
"Oh," she says as she grins and bites her bottom lip.
By the time we've helped each other out of our clothes, the water's warm. I help her in first, then step in. And then, under the hot stream of water, we resume our dirty kissing and grabbing.
"Wait, wait." She presses a hand against my chest, then reaches for the shampoo bottle on the ledge. "I do need to get clean first."
I laugh and follow her lead by shampooing my own hair and doing a quick rinse with body wash. She holds her hand out for the loofah, but I shake my head. "Let me?"
A devilish smirk tugs at her perfect mouth. When she nods and licks her lips, I have to take a second. God, this woman. The way she's sweet and filthy all at once is enough to make me lose it right here. But I refuse. Not before she gets what I'm dying to give her.
I work up a lather and run the loofah all over her body. I take my time, paying attention to every part of her. These beautifully curved hips, the fullness of her thighs, the gentle curve of her waist, her arms, her hands, the swell of her boobs. And then I lather up my hands and slowly work between her legs.
She clutches both hands around my biceps, and her toes curl against the earthen-hued river rock that lines the shower floor. Her eyes go wide and pleading as she looks up at me.
I lean down to kiss her. "Tell me what you want."
"You. Just you. Please."
With her breathy request, I'm ready to burst. Not yet, though.
She reaches down to palm me, but I gently push her hand away. I want this to be one hundred percent about her.
When she presses her mouth against my shoulder and her sounds go louder and more frantic, I work my hand faster. She's panting, pleading, shouting. When I feel the sting of her teeth against my skin, I grin. Fuck yeah, my girl is rough when she loses it and I love it.
I love her.
She explodes against my palm, the weight of her body shuddering against me. I've got her, though.
I've always, always got you.
When she starts to ease back down, she lets out a breathy laugh.
"Oh my god."
I nod down at her, which only makes her laugh harder. Then she glances down at what I'm sporting between my legs and flashes a naughty smirk. "Let's do something about that."
Soon it's me at the mercy of her hands. My head spins at the pleasure she delivers so confidently, like she knows every single one of my buttons to push.
When I lose it, I'm shuddering and grunting. For a few seconds, my vision's blurry. She's that incredible.”
― Sarah Echavarre Smith, The Boy With the Bookstore

“The hot water cascaded down his body, and his thoughts again turned to the captivating and mysterious girl who'd fled his house. He hadn't even seen her face without makeup, though he wished he had. Her lips were full, her breasts were beautiful, and her ass was round. And the way she kissed with her delicious mouth had driven Ramón wild.
His hand reached down to stroke his throbbing cock. Oh, how he wished it was her delicate fingers wrapped around his length, or better yet, her mouth.
Yeah, that was it. He wanted to fuck her mouth.
The soft tongue of hers licking his tip, teasing him until he couldn't resist her any longer. Juliet on her knees in front of him, deep throating him. Her eyes locked on his as she took him deeper and deeper.”
― Alana Quintana Albertson, Ramón and Julieta

“He sweeps his fingers over her folds, teasing her entrance.
"So nice and wet for me," he hums. "I'm going to make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart. Would you like that? Want me to fill you up?"
Eden shivers, electricity arcing from nerve to nerve. "Y-yes. Yes, Shang, I do."
He rubs the head of his cock against her clit, torturously teasing. "I don't know. What do good girls say if they want my cock?"
"Please," Eden shouts. "Please, I want---"
"Use your words. Come on, sweetheart. I know you can do it."
"I want your cock in me," she whines. "Fuck me like you own me---"
A loud moan rips itself from her throat as Shang presses into her. Splits her open.
Stretched her to the fullest.
It feels so good, it's almost blinding. All she can focus on is the way he thrusts in and out of her, makes her take his full length just to pull back and do it all over again. The sound of wet skin on skin drives her up the wall, but nothing makes her lose it quite like the way Shang grunts with each snap of his hips.
Feral. An animal. A man on a mission.
"'Like you own me,'" he growls. "You really know how to drive me fucking crazy, Eden."
"Shang---"
"What is it, sweetheart? Don't tell me I'm too much for you."
"No, never. I want---"
"What? You want what? You close already?"
Eden both loves and hates the pride in his voice. "Cocky bastard," she murmurs, too dizzy to see straight.
He grins. "Yep, that's me. This cocky bastard owns you and your tight little pussy. Look how well you take me, sweetheart. Like you were made for me."
"Fuck---" It's a whine. It's a whimper. It's desperate and choked off and needy.
He grips her waist and fucks her hard against the shower wall. "You sound so fucking hot, Eden. Come on. Take it. Fucking take it."
Her back arches as she climaxes, drags her nails across his back, waves of pleasure washing over her so hard and fast, she thinks she might collapse.
Shang doesn't let her, though. He holds her steady through her orgasm, still pumping his cock into her in pursuit of his own pleasure.”
― Katrina Kwan, Knives, Seasoning, & A Dash of Love

“Hungrily, Nick pulled her with him into the hot rain of the shower-bath. Turning her face out of the stream of water, Lottie rested her head on his shoulder, standing passively as his hands slid over her body. Her breasts were small but plump in his hands, the nipples turning hard in the clasp of his fingers. He shaped his hands over her unrestricted waist, the swell of her hips, her round backside... caressing her everywhere, moving her against the engorged length of his sex. Moaning, she parted her thighs in compliance with his exploring hand, pushing her delicate flesh against his stroking thumb. As he entered her with his fingers, she gasped and instinctively relaxed at the gentle penetration. He caressed her, stroking in deep, secret places that brought her to the brink of climax. When she was ready to come, he lifted her against the tiled wall, one arm beneath her hips, the other behind her back. She made a sound of surprise and clung to him, her eyes widening as he pushed his cock inside her. Her flesh closed tightly around him, swallowing every inch of his shaft as he let her settle against him.
"I've got you," he murmured, her slippery body locked securely in his arms. "Don't be afraid."
Breathing fast, she rested her head back against his arm. With the hot water falling against his back, and the lush female body impaled on his, every lucid thought promptly evaporated. He filled her in heavy upward surges, again and again, until she cried out and clamped around him in luxurious contractions. Nick held still, feeling her quiver around him, the depths of her body becoming almost unbearably snug. Her spasms seemed to pull him deeper, drawing waves of pleasure from his groin, and he shuddered as he spent inside her.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“He takes me by the hand to the bathroom in the hallway. He turns the knob in the tub, and a rush of water shoots from the showerhead. We both shed our clothes in silent unison. There's no need for words right now.
Callum steps in the shower before I can get a proper look at him. It doesn't matter how many times I see him naked. I'm forever in awe. Under the brightness of the overhead light and the sheen of water, he is stunning. Like always.
I claw at the wet muscle in front of me, and he captures my mouth in his. We're kissing so hard, so rabidly that I can hardly breathe. The only air I get is through tiny gaps between our mouths when our movements are too rough.
I breathe, he breathes, and we do it over and over.
He's grabbing my waist, the fleshy curve of my hips, my generously rounded backside. I give his chiseled chest one last eager grope with both hands. And then I always stroke along his always impressive length, speeding up with every groan and grunt he gives me. It's two minutes until he's done for.
I rinse my hand in the stream surrounding us, but then he grips my hips and directs me to sit on the ledge at the far end of the shower. I watch him kneel down in front of me, biting my lip to suppress a groan. The water is lukewarm right now and that's a good thing. I'll need to cool off soon.
He pushes his face between my legs and works his magic. Endless swirls and licks and sucks. I'm howling. It echoes against the walls of the bathroom, the only appropriate soundtrack to the filthy actions taking place in this steamy haven. Legs shaking and muscles twitching, I explode. He doesn't dare let up, digging his fingers in my thighs.”
― Sarah Smith, Simmer Down

“She began peeling off her pants. Whatever Arthur's concerns, she was safe and in one piece. One very sexy, beautiful piece. Heat flared through the bond and she sucked in a breath.
"Planning on taking a shower?" I approached slowly, my face revealing every intimate thought on my mind.
"I---yes." Her exhaustion was lifting, replaced with a knowing smile. "Is that a problem?"
"Not at all." I closed the distance between us, removing my shirt. "In fact, I might just need a shower myself."
"Do you want to go first?" she teased. "I'm in no hurry."
"No, no, I won't delay your shower." I wrapped my arms around her, unfastening her bra. "Why don't we take one together?"
A playful smile crossed her lips. "I don't know, that seems terribly inefficient."
"Nonsense." I helped her remove her bra and then slipped the panties down her legs. "I will show you just how efficient I can be."
She moved a hand to my chest, catching her lower lip with her teeth. "Well, you can't shower in your suit."
She leaned up to kiss me, her fingers working on my buttons as I laughed against her mouth. "Eager?"
"Shut up."
I scooped her off her feet as her laughter carried through to the bathroom, where I planned to assist her in a very slow and inefficient shower.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“He kissed her neck and she bit his shoulder. His skin was like a salted caramel, and she didn't want him to rinse off before she got a taste. Even the piquancy of his sweat appealed to her, and as he reached overhead to adjust the sputtering showered, Iris kissed a path up the side of his torso to the softness of his underarm.
He pulled the strings on her bikini top and she undid the tie of his board shorts. Seeing him outside, in daylight, naked and aroused, awakened every inch of her body like the cool breeze on her wet skin. Their transgression laced her desire. She couldn't help grinning as he kissed her, and their teeth clicked like pearls. The shower water was warm by now, and they ducked into the stream together.
They kissed and caressed each other as the water made their skin slick with soap and sunscreen. Gabe ran his hands up and down her sides, then gripped the soft curves of her hips to spin her around and pulled her backside close. She leaned into his chest and felt his hardness thump between her thighs, her buttocks, slipping on her soapy body, and she teased him, swishing back and forth like a cat. He reached one hand around her breasts and slid the other down her stomach. When his fingers found between her legs wetter than water, he swore in her ear--- an exclamation and declaration of exactly what he wanted to do to her.
Iris glanced up toward the house, where the fear of someone seeing them had morphed to thrill, then fantasy. Unbidden, the image of Jonathan watching them from a window flashed behind her eyes, and then it was Jonathan's tan arm crossed over her collarbones, his hand making her ache. The first wave of pleasure made it hard to hold herself up. She opened her eyes and braced against the wall, her fingernails making fresh yellow scratches in the soft silver teakwood.”
― Francesca Serritella, Full Bloom