I let him lead me up the steps, the sound of our breathing the only thing filling the house.
Every brush of his fingers against mine sent another spark through my skin. By the time we reached the bathroom door, mynerves were singing, my thoughts a blur of want and fear and something dangerously close to love.
He turned the handle. Then he looked at me, waiting—not for permission exactly, but for a yes.
And I gave it.
Cristian turned on the shower, and immediately the air in the room was thick with steam and desire. Cristian stood close enough that I could feel the warmth coming off his skin. The bond was a live wire between us—every pulse a quiet demand.
He reached for the buttons at my collar, movements careful at first, almost reverent. I didn’t breathe. His fingers brushed the inside of my wrist, then stilled.
He looked at me, eyes dark and certain. “You are impossible to resist, and I no longer wish to try.”
The space between us vanished. Whatever restraint he’d been holding onto dissolved. His hands found me again—firmer, certain. I helped him, tugging at his shirt, the fabric damp from the steam. Every small sound between us—fabric shifting, breath catching, the patter of the shower—seemed to fill the world.
When he pulled me in, it wasn’t graceful. It was desperate. His mouth found mine, and the kiss was the kind that made thinking impossible.
I tugged at his shirt, and he let me. The fabric clung to his skin before falling away. The sight of him like that—bare, unguarded—made my stomach drop. He looked almost human in that light, but his gaze said otherwise.
Steam curled around us, soft and white.
When his hands found my waist again, they lingered—not demanding, just sure. He drew me closer until my forehead rested against his chest. His heartbeat thudded under my ear, solid and slow, syncing with the rhythm that pulsed through the tether.
“Every time I touch you,” he said quietly, “the world steadies.”
My chest tightened. “You make it sound like I’m magic.”
“You are,” he said, matter-of-fact. “The kind that does not destroy.”
I laughed softly, but it came out shaky. “That’s a first.”
His thumb brushed along my jaw, tilting my face up. “Then I shall be the first to prove it true.”
The water rushed around us, hot and constant. Cristian kissed me again—slow this time. It wasn’t careful, but it wasn’t wild either. It was something in between. Something that felt like a promise.
When he finally broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead to mine and whispered, “You unravel me, Nadia.”
I smiled against his mouth. “Good.”
He gave a low sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “You were never supposed to be good for me.”
“Too late,” I whispered.
I stepped back and let the water wash over my naked body before dropping to my knees before him. When I looked up at him through my wet lashes, his focus pinned me in place with raw hunger. “Careful, Nadia.”
I didn’t want to be careful, I wanted to wreck him. I placed my hands on the backs of his thighs and ever-so-gently traced my tongue up the length of his shaft.
He groaned and cupped my head, his touch gentle but firm. “I feel it in every part of me when you touch me.”
I swirled my tongue around the tip, teasing, and kept my eyes on his. His control thinned, and he wound his fingers in my hair, urging me closer.
I slowly took him into my mouth, savoring the salty-sweet taste of him. The water lapped at our skin, creating a sensuousrhythm that matched the movement of my head. He trembled beneath my touch. “Gods, Nadia, your mouth is like sorcery.”
I hummed in approval of his praise, and he groaned in response.
I used my hands to massage the sides of his thighs, wanting him to know he was wanted, desired. His scent filled my senses, and the warm water flowed around us, wrapping us in a cocoon of intimacy.
“You’re killing me,” he groaned as he lifted his head up into the water. Then abruptly, his hands were under my arms and he lifted me to straddle him. “I need to feel your release while I’m inside you.”
