“What about this?” I traced my fingers across something on his bicep, the words in some curled text that I didn’t recognize. Arabic maybe.
“It says ‘no mercy.’”
I looked at those tally marks again. “You ever think about getting one for someone you saved?”
“I don’t save people”
“You saved me.”
That made him go still. The water beat down between us.
“I’d need more skin,” he murmured.
I leaned in slowly, pausing to let him meet me halfway if he wanted to. His body wanted it; that much was obvious: his erection was pressed against my stomach thick and insistent… But didhewant it? He hadn’t last night, but I thought things might have changed. Maybe I had broken through that fearful wall, convinced him that I wouldn’t be too attached.
He leaned down pressing his lips to the corner of my mouth, gentle at first. His hands slid to my hips, pulling me closer, water cascading around our bodies. When our mouths met fully, there was no fire behind it, no teeth, no desperation. It was slow and deep, the kind of kiss that wanted to linger, like we had all the time in the world.
He backed me into the wall, chest warm against mine, the cold tile shocking against my spine in contrast to his heat. Our mouths never broke apart, just deepened. One of his hands slid over my back, along the curve of my waist like he couldn’t get enough of the touch. When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against mine, eyes closed.
“We don’t have to,” he said, voice hoarse.
He kept reminding me of that, but I knew it was more for him than it was for me. I reached between us and guided him, slow and confident, no games this time. No teasing or uncertainty. Just him. Just me. Just this. He hissed a curse as he slid into me, and I kissed him again, stealing the sound from his mouth. The rhythm we found was steady, swaying with the drip of the water and the hush of breath between mouths. My fingers dug into his shoulders, anchoring me there as he filled me completely. Hishands roamed but not like before, curling over the back of my neck like he washoldingme, not fucking me. We moved together like we’d done this a thousand times: not out of some kind of familiar routine, but like an instinctual knowledge of each other.
Our eyes stayed locked. Our mouths brushed between breaths. He made these quiet sounds: soft grunts, sharp exhales, that felt like secrets.
He moved his mouth to my shoulder moaning and muttering a quiet and shaky, “Fuck…”
My body tightened at the sound of his voice, quiet and desperate, and my hands struggled to grasp his slick flesh to pull him closer. He pressed against me in response and whimpered with need.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you…” He kissed me again, taking the gasp from my lips and swallowing it until it mixed with his own sounds of pleasure as I came. It wasn’t a sharp peak, instead slow and warm like being pulled under a tide I didn’t want to escape from. It ebbed in my core and I felt like I melted into him. He drove into me one more time, and I felt his release, throbbing and filling me in a way that almost had me reeling again. His hips faltered, but he kept me in his arms. I could feel the tremble in his body as he rested against me.
He kissed the spot just behind my ear and whispered something I couldn’t quite catch. Maybe I wasn’t meant to. It could have been nothing, or it could have been everything.
He still had one hand around my waist, using it to help anchor me between him and the wall. He brought the other one up to gently grab my chin, tilting my head up so that we made eye contact.
“You are so beautiful like this.”
“You mean soaking wet?” I laughed, water dripping down my face as he held it upturned.
“No.Comingfor me, with me.”
“We can stay in here for a while,” I breathed, and he let go of my face to set me on my feet.
“I have something I have to do today.”
The regret was there in his voice, and the want, too. Like he wished the world outside that shower didn’t exist. But it did. And I knew, sooner or later, it would come for us again.
Fifteen minutes later, we were dressed, and he was zipping up his bag. His expression was back to neutral: the professional mask slipping into place like armor.
“You going out to kill someone?” I asked lightly, mostly just to see if I could get a reaction.
He looked at me. “I’m going out to deal with something.”
“Same thing.”
He didn’t argue. “I’ll be back before it gets dark.”
I nodded, even if I didn’t quite believe him.
