The steam curled off the surface of the bath in slow, lazy ribbons, the night holding perfectly still around them as Nathan looked down at Sana, her wet hair clinging to her throat, her lips swollen and slick, her eyes bright with that particular gleam that had nothing to do with the moonlight and everything to do with wanting more.
He reached down and took her by the jaw, tilting her face up.
"Turn around."
Sana's breath caught at his ordering tone. A slow smile spread across her mouth, lazy and pleased, like a cat stretching toward warm light.
"Yes sir," she murmured.
She rose from her kneel and turned, water cascading off the curve of her hips, off the full swell of her ass as she surfaced — presenting herself at the edge of the bath, both hands bracing against the smooth stone rim, back arched instinctively in a way that required no direction at all. The wet line of her spine caught the pale moonlight. The soft, round weight of her pressed back toward him without shame.
