Kayla
When we were done, I mean finally done, Damien literally carried me into the shower. The steam was thick enough to choke on, but Damien didn’t seem to notice.
He had me pressed gently against the cool tile. The spray of the water was hitting his back while he focused entirely on me.
He washed my body meticulously. He took the sponge, lathering it until it was a cloud of white foam, and began at my shoulders.
He moved in slow, heavy circles, his hand was so much larger than my frame as he buffed the salt and sand from my skin.
He didn't miss a single spot—the curve of my neck, the sensitive skin under my arms, the arch of my feet. It felt like he was worshiping me, one inch at a time.
I reached out, my fingers fumbling for the soap. "My turn," I murmured, my voice still a bi
