Steam clung to the bathroom like fog. It curled across the mirror and dripped down the glass walls. The sound of water still hissed from the showerhead even though Lucian had turned it off. Elena’s chest rose and fell as she leaned weakly against the wall, her hair wet against her face, her body shaking from what he had just done.
Her lips were swollen, her thighs weak, her skin flushed. Her mind felt torn apart and put back together, but not the same.
Lucian did not give her time to breathe. His arms slid under her thighs and back, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. He carried her out of the bathroom, his body wet, water running over his chest, down the lines of his muscles.
Elena curled against him, her cheek on his shoulder. His smell clung to her—smoke, scotch, and something dar
