My thumbs hook into the waistband, and I slide the last piece of fabric down her thighs, dropping to my knees as I go. I press a kiss to her hip bone, loving the way she shivers as her fingers find my hair.
I stand up as the room fills with steam, stripping off my own clothes. Zoey's eyes study my body, watching every muscle move as I step into the shower. The water hits my shoulders, hot and perfect, and I reach for her hand.
"Come in," I offer.
She takes it and the steam swallows us whole.
I pour soap into my palms, work it into a lather, and start with her shoulders. My thumbs press into the knots at the base of her neck, and she lets out this quiet, surrendering sigh that settles in my bones.
"All this work you've been doing," I say against her cheek, my hands sliding down her arms. "One day you're going to look back and see it was all worth it. You know that, right?"
She closes her eyes and makes a small noise.
So I keep going, helping her relax.
"Every early morning. Every burnt tray. Every night you fell asleep standing up."
She laughs softly, leaning back against me, her head resting on my chest.
"It will all be worth it one day, Zoey. Trust me."
My soapy hands trace the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, the softness of her belly. I don't skip anything. Don't rush past the parts she probably hates.
I worshipallof it.
My palms slide up to cup her breasts, soap-slick and warm under the water. I roll her nipples gently between my fingers, feeling them peak and harden under my touch, and the moan she releases makes my cock twitch against her ass.
"That's it, baby." I press my lips to her neck, kissing and licking her skin. "Let me hear you."
My right hand drifts lower over her stomach, past her navel until I split her folds with two fingers, feeling how wet she already is beneath the water.
She gasps, pressing back against me. "Colt—"
"Mmmm, that's it." I slide one finger inside her, slow and deep, and her whole body shudders against mine. "You're so fucking amazing, Zo."
I work her slowly, circling her clit with my thumb, keeping my other arm wrapped tight around her waist like I’m afraid she might float away in the steam. The water runs down her skin in rivers, tracing the dip of her spine, the swell of her ass, and I’m so fucking gone for every inch of it.
“That’s it, Zo,” I murmur into the damp hair at her temple. My voice is rough, wrecked already. “Just like that. Let me feel you.”
She rocks against my hand in a rhythm that’s entirely hers—unpracticed, desperate, perfect. Her head falls back against my shoulder, and the sound she makes is half-moan, half-sigh, all surrender.
“You’re so wet,” I tell her, because I can’t not say it. Because the feel of her around my fingers is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. “So fucking perfect for me.”
Her hips stutter. “Colt—”
I curl my fingers inside her, pressing up, rubbing against the front walls and her whole body tightens like a bowstring.
She gasps, a sharp, broken sound that gets swallowed by the shower spray. Her hand comes up to grip my forearm, nails digging in just enough to make my blood roar.
“That’s it,” I urge, my thumb working faster now, matching the frantic roll of her hips. “Don’t hold back. I want every sound. I want to know I’m the one who gets to hear you like this.”
Her breath hitches, then releases in a soft, shuddering cry as she comes apart against my hand. I feel the clench, the tremor, the way she goes boneless against me like every fibre holding her up just got cut.
I hold her through it, my mouth pressed to her shoulder, whispering nonsense against her skin. “Good girl. So beautiful. Fuck, Zoey.”
When her breathing finally starts to even out, she tilts her head just enough to look at me over her shoulder. Her eyes are hazy, satisfied, and a little bit smug.
“Show-off,” she murmurs, but there’s a smile in her voice.
