I was just about to step into the shower when Julian appeared in the bathroom doorway, looking slightly hesitant.
"Would you... would you like company?" he asked.
My pulse quickened at the suggestion. The idea of sharing such an intimate, everyday moment with him, of seeing him completely without barriers, sent warmth spiraling through my chest.
"I'd love company," I said, as I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the shower, turning on the water and adjusting the temperature until steam began to rise around us.
As we entered the warm spray, Julian's hands found my body, soaping my skin with a thoroughness that had nothing to do with getting clean and everything to do with worship. His fingers traced every curve, every sensitive spot, building heat between us with methodical precision.
When I reached for the soap and began returning the favor, my hands exploring the lean lines of his chest and shoulders, Julian's breathing became labored, his body responding to my touch with obvious excitement.
I could see him hardening, and when I wrapped my soapy hand around his length, Julian groaned and braced himself against the shower wall.
"Vivienne," he breathed, his voice rough with want.
"Touch yourself," I whispered, my eyes fixed on his tattooed hand. "Let me see."
Julian's right hand joined mine, his fingers wrapping around himself, and I felt myself clench at the sight. The words ‘say please’ curved around his hardened flesh, turning something natural into something that felt sacred and profane all at once.
Without breaking eye contact, I dropped to my knees on the shower floor, the warm water cascading over both of us. I looked up at him through the spray, my hair plastered to my head, water running down my face.
"Please," I whispered.
Julian's hand fisted in my wet hair, gentle but controlling. "Say it again," he commanded, his voice rough with need.
"Please," I repeated, and then he was there, guiding himself between my lips with careful precision.
I took him eagerly, my mouth working over his length while my hands gripped his thighs for balance. Julian's grip on my hair tightened, his breathing becoming ragged as I found a rhythm that had him groaning my name.
"You can be rougher," I managed between strokes, looking up at him with eyes dark with desire. "I won't break."
Julian's control snapped at my words. His grip on my hair became firmer, more demanding, and he began moving with me, setting a pace that had me making soft sounds around him. The contrast of his gentleness and his intensity, the way he held me tight but never hurt me, sent heat spiraling through my own body.
"Vivienne," he warned, his voice strained. "I'm going to—"
Instead of pulling away, I gripped the backs of his thighs tighter and pulled him closer, taking him deeper, letting him know without words that I wanted everything he could give me.
Julian came with a groan that echoed off the shower walls, his release filling my mouth as his hand gentled in my hair, stroking instead of gripping.
When I released him, Julian immediately helped me to my feet, his hands framing my face as he kissed me deeply, thoroughly, without any of the hesitation some men showed after such intimacy.
"Most guys are weird about that," I said breathlessly when we broke apart.
"Most guys are idiots," Julian replied, his mouth finding my throat, my collarbone, any skin he could reach.
We finished our shower with lingering touches and soft kisses, the morning's stress temporarily forgotten in the intimacy we'd created. When we stepped out, Julian playfully smacked my ass as I reached for a towel, making me yelp with surprise and laughter.
I looked back at him over my shoulder, water still dripping from my hair, a mischievous glint in my eyes.
Instead of wrapping my towel around my body, I bent at the waist, giving him a great view of my ass and used the towel on my hair instead, twisting it up into the towel and standing up, making sure to shift sidewaysso he got a nice view of my everything before giving a little bounce so all my assets gave a nice jiggle.
I watched in the mirror as Julian's towel dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers, and I could see him beginning to harden again despite having just found release.
In one quick movement, he spun me around and pulled me against him, his mouth crashing down on mine with renewed hunger. When we broke apart, both breathing hard, Julian's still damp arms were around my waist and his right hand had moved to rest gently against my throat. I caught our reflection in the mirror and gasped at the sight of his ‘say please’ tattoo dark against my skin in the reflection.
I looked up at him, loving this version of Julian—free, open, uninhibited by the careful control he usually maintained. His eyes were dark with renewed desire, his hair damp and tousled, his body pressed against mine with obvious need.
"Please," I whispered, just to see what would happen.
