My legs were jelly as I stumbled toward the bathroom, skin slick with sweat, his c*m dripping down the inside of my thigh.
I didn’t even bother to grab a towel. Just flicked on the shower and stepped under the spray, letting the hot water beat against my sore body.
But before I could even rinse the ache between my legs, I heard him behind me. Quiet steps. That same heavy presence.
He didn’t ask. He never did.
The glass door opened, steam swirling around us.
“You think you’re done?” he asked, voice low and rough. “You think you’re clean?”
I turned slightly, water dripping down my bare chest, n*****s hard, lips parted.
“I figured you'd need a break,” I teased, biting back a smirk.
His eyes dragged over my body the curve of my back, the marks on my thighs, the mess still between my le
