Page 89 of Dark Surrender

“Yes.” I chuckle and run a hand down my abs as Iris’s eyes widen.

“Did Cell faint?”

“No. Why?”

Dragging a palm down her face, my woman groans. “You need to look in the mirror.”

I offer her my hand. “How about we both look in the mirror, together, when we shower?”

“Together?” she squeaks, staring at my outstretched palm like it’s diseased.

Taking my hand back, I cross both arms over my chest and laugh at her adorable distress. “Yeah. Together.” That’s what people do. People who’ve seen the other naked and done naked stuff. You shower together. Plus, I’m dying to see her standing, with water gliding over her chest and round ass.

Iris flusters. “I… I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

“What if I promise to only wash myself?” I offer to be polite.

“You wanted to wash me?”

Is the grass green? Is the sky blue? Do bears shit in the woods?

“Uh. Hell, yeah, sweetheart. Why do you think I suggested it?”

“I…” Iris rubs her forehead. “My brain is mush.” She lifts and drops her leg as if it weighs a ton. “And my limbs feel like noodles.”

I snort. “We made out for fuckin’ ever, and you came a few times.” Should I tell her she has friction burn on her face from my stubble?

“Five,” Iris throws out.

“Five? I thought it was three.”

“You were counting?”

“Of course, I was. Those were your first orgasms with a man. I had to make it good.”

A small, tired smile graces Iris’s lips, and she hums. “Then it was five. Two of them were right after another.”

“Noted.” I nod, feeling ten feet tall.

To do what needs to be done before Iris has a chance to get up and do the most common womanly shit by overthinking what went down, I scoop her up.

On a squeal, Iris tries to wriggle away, but I make it fast.

“Dark.” She gasps in surprise, slapping my shoulder. “This is unnecessary.”

Carrying her from the room, I kiss her cheek. “No. It’s necessary.”

She wrinkles her nose at me. “Ugh. Put me down.” She kicks her legs, and I do put her down, but only once we reach the bathroom, where she turns on me and shoves my chest. It’s more playful than angry.

I cuff the back of my woman’s neck and drag her flush against me. Not asking for permission this time, I take her lips in a rough kiss that leaves us breathless.

Thankfully, it also keeps her from fighting me any further, so when I turn on the shower, undress completely, and step under the spray, Iris takes one look at my half-hard cock and removes what little clothes she has left on and joins me. I hand her a loofah already sudsed with soap and keep my word. She washes herself, and I wash myself. Sure, I end up with an erection, but we ignore him. You can’t blame the guy when we get a solid view of her ass and the pink slit between her curvy thighs. Or the way the water rushes over her bald head and over her breasts when she steps under the spray to rinse off. I commit every moment to memory.

Once I’m done ogling my woman, I climb out before she does, wrap a towel around my waist, and have one waiting for her when she steps onto the mat.

“Thank you,” she whispers, looking at the tiled floor, not at me.

“Anytime,” I say and mean it.