Samick lifts the strip of the towel, pulling it straight with both hands—
And he brings it to my mouth.
It muffles the gasp that hitches through me.
He gags me.
I jerk aside, my cheek turning to him, shoulder smacking into his arm, as though I can escape it.
But Samick predicts me.
And he’s faster.
The fabric slips into my mouth, and I’m spun around to face the wall before the pressure of his body pins me to it.
A whimper utters out of me.
It doesn’t pause him.
He ties the strip at the back of my head, tight.
Then his hand slides into the dampness of my hair, a pressure that pushes my cheek against the wall.
But his other hand—
His other hand drags down my spine, down the towel, taking it with him until the towel crumples to the tiles at my heels.
My skin pebbles. Both under his touch and the cold of the bathroom.
Fingertips ghosting along my hip, he brings his mouth to my ear, his breath crisp and sharp.
An ache is spreading in me—and I shut my eyes, tight, as though I can will it away, banish it from my body.
But it only intensifies. Turns painful almost.
Still, his fingers travel down my side, tracing my silhouette, slowly, so fucking slowly.
Words escape me.
I’m gagged, but I don’t even make a sound, not even an attempt at a strung-together sentence.
The first time his touch wandered my body, it felt like an inspection. A science experiment. The way he watched me wasclinical. Even his actual touch was experimental, a calculation of the exact pressure and angle that pleases my body.
And he watched every feeling pass over my face.
Now…
Now there’s no inspection, no distance, no experiment.
His fingers curve along my back, then drag down the length of my spine, over the curve of my ass, then under—
A shudder runs through me, electric, all the way to my core.
He finds my heat, and his fingers slip inside.
They curl.
A moan withers out of me. Muffled. Gagged. But he hears it just fine in the quiet of the bathroom.
