“Jesus, Phoebe,” he said on a long exhale.
The hunger his in his eyes had me stepping forward to grabhishand this time, and then I led him into the shower, glancing over my shoulder as I stepped inside, allowing the hot water to fall over me as I sank myself into the steamy heat.
Henry followed, no smile on his face, only a look of awe in his eyes, and I wondered how the hell he managed to evoke such emotions from me with nothing but his gaze.
As soon as he stepped under the giant showerhead with me, he pressed his hands against my face and pulled me into another one of his intoxicating kisses. It was there I decided Henry’s mouth was my favourite form of meditation. My mind quietened, too lost to the sensation his lips and tongue created. The way his fingertips pressed against me, holding me close as though too afraid to let me go in case I ran away.
I wasn’t going anywhere. Not tonight.
I could have stood beneath that shower letting the night wash away down the drain, knowing the promise of watching the sun rise with him was too great to ever go to sleep.
Eventually, though, he reached around me to grab a bottle of shower gel. He poured far too much into his hands and let the gel keep spilling out as he lifted it to my chest and let it trail down my stomach in thick streams of white. He did the same across my shoulders until I was coated in it, then he turned me, so my back was to him, and began to rub his soap-covered hands all over my body. The silkiness of his touch against my skin brought a moan of satisfaction out of me. Henry waseverywhere, cleansing me, dirtying me up, washing me of my troubles, gracing me with new sins. His hands roamed over my breasts, rubbing in circles, creating a thick lather. The smell of mint and coconut filled the air, the steam building up around us as his fingers pushed down between my legs, and he shifted my thighs apart with a simple nudge.
“Hmm,” I moaned.
“You like that, huh?” he asked the moment he cupped my pussy, and I twitched in his grip, before he ran that same hand down my thigh, making sure to clean me everywhere, thoroughly, roughly, smoothly, intently.
He washed my body of who I used to be, bringing someone new to life as he lathered my legs, my feet, the backs of my thighs, my arse cheeks, my spine. Not a trace of me was left untouched apart from my pigtails, and once he was satisfied, he spun me back around, placing what was left of the shower gel in my hands.
“Your turn.”
I obliged, coating his skin with the soap, dragging my nails through the thick of it, causing him to hiss before he shook his head and huffed out a barely there laugh. “Such trouble.”
With him, trouble felt enticing.
I coated his back, his impeccably firm butt, and I saved the best for last when I came around to his front again with soapy hands to run them over his long, thick cock, watching his reaction as he hissed in another breath, and all the light left his eyes, replaced by fire. My fingers curled around him tightly, no fear or worry about whether he liked it or not taking over as I followed the desire in his eyes, feeling emboldened by the look he gave me.
“That feels… good.” He pressed a hand against the shower wall as his body bowed when I began to move faster. “Fuck.Toogood.”
I stepped closer while I stroked him harder. “You like that, huh?” I asked, repeating his words back to him.
He held my gaze, his lips parting. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“You,” I confessed. “You created this. Now, deal with it.”
The words had barely left my mouth when he pushed me back against the shower wall, making me lose my grip on his dick as my hands flew to latch onto his biceps with a giggle I couldn’t suppress. His throaty growl against my mouth tasted like victory as my back landed against the tiles with a loud slap of water coming between us. The shower bottle at our feet got tangled up with our movements, making Henry’s foot slide outward with the soap, and we almost lost our balance.
“Shit,” he hissed with a husky laugh, somehow holding us both upright, his fingers on my hips tightening.
“Careful, soldier.”
“Don’t play those name games with me right now, Phoebe.”
“Sorry, Cohen.”
His eyes landed on my mouth. “Say one more thing I don’t approve of, and I’ll make you pay.”
“Apologises.” I paused. “Cohen.”
“Grr.” It took him a mere second to turn the shower off, leaving only our bated breaths as Henry pressed his hands above my head against the tiled wall, his body stretched out, and his erection bouncing between us like a gift from the gods. The moonlight cast the most perfect shadows across his features, and something in my chest pinched far too tightly. Something unwelcome.
An awareness that I’d probably remember this moment right here, right now, for the rest of my life.
A realisation that the man who pretended to be made from ice was actually warmer than the sun.
A sadness that this would only last eight more days after tonight, and I was already becoming hooked on all his throaty noises, the need in his eyes, and the raw sexuality that poured out of him.
It must have shown on my face, too, because he slowly slid his hands down the tiles, and he straightened, tipping my chin up to him with only a single knuckle. “Hey.”
