“Look at you,” he murmured against me, his tone dark and satisfied. “All that attitude earlier…”
“Shut up,” I managed, but my voice shook.
He laughed quietly, the sound vibrating through me again, and I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from making a sound I'd regret.
My legs started shaking for real then, and he felt it immediately.
His grip tightened, holding me in place, keeping me exactly where he wanted me.
“Don't run,” he said low, almost a command.
I wasn't trying to.
But my body was already betraying me, trembling under the pressure building low in my stomach, spreading outward until I couldn't think straight.
“Kyrie—” My voice cracked slightly.
“I know,” he said simply, his tone steady, even though mine wasn't. “Let go.”
And that's exactly what happened.
The tension snapped all at once, crashing through me in waves that left me gasping. My hand pressed flat against the tile for balance while my other hand tightened in his hair.
He didn't stop. Didn't ease up.
Just kept going until my knees gave out completely, and he had to catch me, his hands firm on my waist as he stood slowly, pulling me back against his chest.
My breathing was still uneven, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.
“You good?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing against my temple.
I nodded, even though I wasn't sure I could speak yet.
He turned me around carefully, his hands steadying me while the water continued to pour down over both of us.
When I finally looked up at him, his expression was smug as hell.
“Still irritated?” he asked, that cocky grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.
I narrowed my eyes at him, even though my legs were still shaking. “You're annoying.”
“Yeah?” He leaned down, his forehead resting against mine. “But you love me anyway.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at my lips.
“Unfortunately.”
He kissed me then, slow and deep, like he owned every second of it—and for a moment, I forgot I was supposed to be getting ready to leave.
When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushed across my bottom lip.
“You still going out?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes locked on mine.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice still a little breathless.
He nodded slowly, but I could see the shift in his expression—the possessive edge creeping back in.
“Aight,” he said simply. “But you better text me when you get there.”
