Her body shuddered. The relentless weight of the shower spray. The boiling heat radiating off his skin. The deep, full ache in her core. It was all too much to bear standing up.
Wet pink hair plastered itself across her damp cheekbones. Her eyes fluttered open halfway, glassy and completely unfocused in the steam. Her lips were noticeably puffy from the kiss, glistening under the bathroom lights.
He pulled away slightly—just a fraction—letting the hot water run straight between their mouths, washing away the sticky trail of spit and shared breath.
She looked up at him.
Barely.
Eyes heavy with haze.
Lashes clumping wetly together.
Her delicate face flushed a deep, feverish red.
And he smirked.
Smug.
Utterly in control.
