Chapter 2: Surrender in Steam

The water cascaded over their bodies like a warm rain, steam curling up from the tub in lazy spirals that blurred the edges of the bathroom mirror. Ethan leaned back against the porcelain, his muscles still thrumming from the raw intensity of pinning Lila against the wall moments ago. She nestled between his legs, her back pressed to his chest, skin slick and hot where they touched. Her dark hair clung to her shoulders like wet silk, droplets tracing paths down the curve of her breasts, nipples pebbled from the heat and the lingering ache of their release.

He traced lazy circles over her thigh with one hand, the other dipping lower, fingers finding the soft folds of her pussy beneath the bubbles. She was still swollen, sensitive from the way he’d fucked her—deep, claiming thrusts that had her nails scraping down his back, her cries muffled against his neck. Now, in the afterglow, he moved gently, lovingly, his touch a whisper of what had been wildfire. One finger circled her clit, slow and deliberate, drawing a soft gasp from her lips.

“God, Ethan,” she murmured, her head falling back against his shoulder, exposing the elegant line of her throat. He nipped there lightly, tasting salt and skin, his cock stirring against her ass even as exhaustion tugged at him. “You make me feel ... alive.”

“That’s because you are,” he whispered, his voice rough with possession. He slipped a finger inside her, feeling the velvet clench, the remnants of his cum mixing with her wetness. She arched, a moan vibrating through her body, her hand reaching back to grip his hair. He pumped slowly, adding a second finger, curling them to stroke that spot that made her tremble. Lovingly, he held her through it, his free arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as if he could fuse their bodies into one.

The water lapped at their skin, amplifying every sensation—the slick slide of his fingers, the heat building low in her belly like embers reigniting. She rocked against his hand, her breaths coming in shaky pants, her free hand clutching the edge of the tub. “Faster ... please.”

He obliged, but kept it tender, his thumb pressing her clit in rhythm. “Come for me again, Lila. Let me feel you shatter.” Her moans grew louder, echoing off the tiles, her body tensing like a bowstring. When she came, it was soft and shuddering, her pussy pulsing around his fingers, a quiet cry escaping her lips. He kissed her temple, murmuring praises—”So beautiful, so mine”—as she floated down, boneless in his arms.