Page 5 of Eternal Mate

I needed to stop passing up these opportunities if we were going to really grow together like we wanted.

“Sure.”

My response surprised him, but he didn’t admit as much. Instead, the two of us trailed toward the bathroom in charged silence.

As I undressed and stepped into the shower, the warm water cascaded over me, washing away the tensions of the day. The steam filled the air, and I was glad I could blame the flushed tint of my skin on it as Sariel slipped into the shower with me.

My heart was threatening to beat out of my chest, and from the way his lips kept twitching, he knew it.

I pointedly avoided glancing down—or at any of him besides his face, really.

Sariel was not hiding his own perusal. I tried to ignore the zing that flared down the bond from him.

He took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between us. His hand reached out, hesitating for a moment before brushing against my cheek, his touch gentle—almost nervous. I couldn't help but lean into his caress, craving the affection.

He loosened up immediately, pulling us flush together.

The steam created a hazy veil around us, intensifying the moment. I could feel his gaze on me like a physical touch; his desire was so potent, my mouth watered. It was both thrilling and nerve-wracking to know I held that kind of power over him.

Neither of us broke the silence for a long moment, just enjoying how the water cascaded over our bodies, letting the warmth seep into our skin.

Lost in the intimacy of the moment, I finally found the courage to speak.

"Sariel," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of the shower.

He let out a soft hum to show he was paying attention as he reached for the shampoo. My train of thought was completely derailed when his fingers buried themselves in my hair, massaging the soap into my roots. I shivered at the sensation when he gently tilted my head back with his grip on my hair.

Sariel didn’t seem to care that I’d lost what I’d been intending to say as he rinsed, then added conditioner to repeat the process.

My eyes fluttered closed. I didn’t dare open them when I felt the drag of a rag across my face—it trailed down my neck, slipping across my shoulders and then down the valley between my breasts.

Sparks were firing off in our bond, and I wasn’t sure where Sariel’s feelings stopped and mine began.

The soft whimper I released when he circled back for my breasts—his motions unfairly speedy where I wanted to feel him most—earned me a soft rumble from him. Was it a sound of desire, or amusement?

Probably both, if the kaleidoscope of feelings was anything to go by.

As his hands continued their exploratory journey, teasing and caressing every inch of my skin, I found myself squirming.

Sariel's touch was reverent, his movements deliberate yet gentle. He knew exactly how to make me melt beneath his fingertips, expertly navigating the delicate balance between pleasure and restraint. Every stroke, every whispered breath, ignited a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing moment.

And then he was guiding me back under the stream of water, washing away his handiwork like I hadn’t been ready to combust only seconds ago.

When I opened my eyes, he was smirking at me. I tried to mask my pout as he reached for the shampoo again.

“My turn!” I interrupted his attempts at nonchalance, snatching the slick bottle from him with a grin of my own. I half expected him to snatch it back, but he didn’t; instead, he kneeled so I could comfortably lather the soap into his red curls.

I realized my mistake immediately as his hands dragged up my calves, making me hyperaware of how close his face was to—

“You’re killing me,” Sariel admitted, and I giggled.

The intimate atmosphere shifted with our shared laughter, breaking the tension and replacing it with a refreshing lightness. Sariel's eyes sparkled with mirth as he stood up, the water cascading down his body. I couldn't help but admire the way droplets clung to his defined muscles, his skin glistening under the warm glow of the bathroom lights.

"I didn't know washing my hair could be such a torturous experience," he teased, running a hand through his damp curls, causing them to fall in disarray. I’d planned to give him a taste of his own medicine and wash his body, too, but my eyes had finally dropped to chase after the trails of water running down his body.

"Well, consider it payback for making me lose my train of thought," I replied absently, my fingers tracing a path along his chest, following the water.

"Is that what I did?" he murmured, his voice husky. “I thought maybe you were just practicing.”

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