“Where you going?” His hands slid from my waist to my thighs, firm and possessive.
“Out with Drayla,” I managed, my voice already unsteady.
“You taking security?”
“Y-yes,” I breathed as his palms smoothed up the backs of my thighs, spreading me slightly. The word came out broken, caught between a moan and an answer.
“Good.” He dropped to his knees behind me, his breath hot against my skin. “You got time.”
My pulse spiked immediately.
“What are you doing?” I asked, even though I already knew.
“Making sure you leave here in a better mood.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but then his palms smoothed up the backs of my thighs, spreading me slightly, and whatever I was about to say dissolved into nothing.
The water beat down on both of us, steam curling thick in the air, but all I could focus on was the heat of his breath against my skin.
“Kyrie—”
“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and controlled. “Let me take care of you.”
And then his mouth was on me.
Slow and Intentional. Like he'd been thinking about this exact moment all day.
My hand shot out, bracing against the tile wall, because my knees damn near buckled on contact.
“Fuck,” I breathed, my head dropping forward.
He didn't respond—just tightened his grip on my thighs and pulled me closer, his tongue moving in a rhythm that made my entire body tense.
The shower spray hit my back, but I barely felt it. All I could register was the pressure, the precision, the way he knew exactly where to focus without me having to say a single word.
My breathing shifted—shorter, sharper—and I felt him smile against me.
That cocky-ass smile.
“Stop,” I muttered, but it came out breathless and unconvincing.
He hummed low in his throat, the vibration shooting straight through me, and my fingers curled against the slick tile.
“Stop what?” he asked between movements, his voice muffled but smug as hell.
I didn't answer because I couldn't form a coherent sentence anymore.
My other hand reached back, fingers threading into his hair, gripping tighter than I meant to.
He groaned softly at that, and the sound alone made my thighs tremble.
“Kyrie…” His name left my lips like a warning and a plea at the same time.
He adjusted his angle slightly, his hands sliding higher on my hips to steady me, and suddenly everything intensified.
My breath hitched, and my spine arched.
The steam, the water, the heat—it all blurred together until the only thing that existed was the relentless, controlled way he worked me over.
