“Noted,” he states, grabbing onto my hips when we get to the top of the stairs and holding on to me as we make our way to the room. “Go start the shower, and I’ll meet you in there. There’s something I have to do real quick,” he tells me, and I nod on a yawn.
I get the water molten and then strip down and step under the spray. I stand there and let the hot water melt away the worst of my fears and worries and all of the stress and concern still clinging to my skin. I wash and condition my hair and then scrub my body until it’s almost raw. I watch as the soap sluffs off me, bubbles and water dripping down my feet and swirling toward the drain.
I trace my now demon-mark-free skin, thinking of the three souls now locked away in a demon vault that I really hope in my heart looks like Gringotts. I mean, there were dragon bones in that trial room, so the chances are...honestly, still pretty low, but still a girl’s gotta dream.
So much has happened and all so incredibly fast. I’m on my third attempt to process it all when Rogan finally joins me. He steps in behind me, and I’m reminded of the insane level of attraction I felt the first time his body was pressed up against mine like this. I turn around so that my nipples can skim the hard planes of his torso as we simply stand together, our bodies caressing the other’s as we just breathe in and out.
I watch him soap up his hair and body, reveling in the intimacy and the fact that I’m totally perving out. If someone would have told me when we first met that we’d eventually get here, I’d have said sign me the fuck up. Even if they had warned me about all the awful, scary, traumatic shit I’d have to go through to be standing here ogling this man, knowing he’s mine, I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second. I also would have never admitted any of this to anyone for any reason, but it doesn’t matter because all the shit happened and now I’m here, eye-fucking the love of my life.
“If you keep looking at me that way, we’re never going to make it out of the shower, and I had big plans for when we got out of the shower,” Rogan purrs at me.
I shamelessly watch as the water flows freely down his hard chest, past his cut abs, dips into his yummy Adonis belt, and then drips off his hardening cock.
“Looking at you like what?” I tease, my eyes languidly sliding up his body, pausing on his lips and then rising to meet his eyes.
“Like a demon who wants my soul,” he tells me, and I immediately scrunch my nose in rejection of that suggestion. “Too soon?” he asks.
“Way too fucking soon,” I agree on a laugh. “You have to stick to that romance novel shit and say something likeyou’re looking at me like you want to eat me,” I encourage.
He rinses off and shakes his head, a deep chuckle rumbling out of him and settling deep in my belly.
“Well then, come over here so I can eat you.”
You don’t have to ask me twice. Bon appetit.
I jump at him without missing a beat, but I don’t anticipate how slippery the water has made us, and we both almost go down. I’m screaming and then laughing as Rogan almost pulls a muscle trying to keep me from killing us both. Wouldn’t that be a story: Remember that time we both died because I leapt without thinking in the shower?
Never leap without thinking in the shower.
That’s going up there with “never date a man with two first names” and “always trust the bones.”
I cling to Rogan’s neck, terrified and completely amused. “That’s my bad,” I offer him as he grunts and readjusts my body against his. “Let’s just move this to the bedroom like you originally planned,” I tell him, eyeing the wood beam above us and promising myself that one day I’ll hold on to it while I ride Rogan’s face.
“That might be best, you know, for safety reasons,” he ribs as he reaches behind us and turns the water off.
My smile is huge as I slide down Rogan’s body to grab a towel and dry off. He watches me like he can’t get enough of me, and it’s making me feel fucking amazing.
“I gotta say,” I tell him as I hurry to put product in my hair so it doesn’t frizz out, “this whole hero worship thing you’ve got going on is working for me,” I razz, throwing in an eyebrow waggle for good measure.
He barks out a loud long laugh that I feel keenly between my thighs.
“I take it back, that gorgeous laugh is now what’s doing it for me,” I amend, and he stalks toward me in that way that makes me want to get all squealy.
“You fucking do it for me, Lennox,” he declares simply, and I feel the passion in those words all the way down to my toes.
“Let’s get our tether on!” I announce, so ready to get our connection back to where it’s supposed to be.
Rogan laughs hard again, closing the distance between us and pulling me out of the bathroom. “Get our tether on?” he questions, and I cringe.
“Yeah, it sounded cooler in theory,” I admit, following after him and getting wet just at the thought of all the orgasms I know are about to go down.
We clear the bathroom doorway, and Rogan steps aside to reveal a room covered in lit candles. White pillar candles in all shapes and sizes dot every surface except the bed and floor, while the huge windows reflect the flickers of candlelight, and it makes it look like we’re completely surrounded by warm, incandescent light.
“It’s gorgeous,” I gasp, loving the effort and the ambiance it creates.
He reaches for something, and the next thing I know, he’s handing me a warm cup of coffee. My face lights up with even more excitement, and I take a huge sip. It’s exactly how I like it, and I groan with pleasure.
“You are nailing this,” I purr at him, warming my hand on the mug as I gulp half of it down.
