29. Lucas
29
LUCAS
T he door to her room is still slightly ajar, just as I left it. The sound of the shower is still going, the water creating a soft, steady rhythm that drowns out the noise in my head.
I push the door open and step inside, the warmth from the steam wrapping around me like a blanket. It’s almost too easy to let the rest of the world fall away in here.
I see her silhouette through the frosted glass, the curves of her body barely visible but enough to make my breath hitch. She’s everything I’ve been trying to protect, everything I’m terrified of losing, and yet, here I am, dragging her deeper into the darkness.
But in this moment, that fear is drowned out by something else—something raw and primal that I can’t keep at bay.
Without thinking, I start unbuttoning my shirt, my movements slow, deliberate. The fabric clings to my damp skin as I peel it off, the steam making everything feel heavy, thick. My mind is still tangled in the guilt, the doubt, but my body… my body knows what it wants.
I push open the shower door, and the rush of steam escapes, mixing with the cool air of the room. She turns, startled at first, but her eyes soften when she sees me, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“Lucas,” she says, her voice a mix of surprise and something else—something that sends a jolt of heat straight through me. “You’re soaked.”
I step into the shower fully clothed, the water immediately soaking through the rest of my clothes, plastering the fabric to my skin. I can’t tear my eyes away from her, the way the water runs down her body, glistening on her skin. She’s so close, and the space between us feels charged, electric.
“Couldn’t resist,” I murmur, my voice low, rough with the desire that’s been building since the moment I saw her in here. “You’re too tempting, standing there all alone.”
She laughs softly, the sound light, almost teasing. “You’re going to ruin your clothes.”
“Don’t care,” I reply, closing the distance between us. My hand reaches out to cup her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek, wet and warm. “Right now, the only thing I care about is you.”
Her breath catches, her eyes darkening as she looks up at me. I can see the tension in her, the way her body responds to my touch, and it ignites something in me—something I’ve been trying to suppress but can’t any longer.
I lean in, my lips hovering just above hers, the heat of her breath mingling with mine. “You have no idea what you do to me,” I say over the sound of the water. “How much I need you.”
She closes the gap, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that’s soft at first, hesitant. But then it deepens, the tension between us snapping as she presses herself against me, her hands clutching at my shirt, pulling me closer.
The water cascades over us, soaking through everything, but I don’t care. All I can think about is the way she feels against me, the way her body fits perfectly with mine.
I push her gently against the cool tiles, my hands roaming over her wet skin, memorizing every curve, every inch of her. The world outside, the guilt, the fear—it all fades away as I lose myself in her, in the warmth of her body, the taste of her lips.
She moans softly against my mouth, and it’s like gasoline on a fire, fueling the need that’s been building inside me since the moment I walked into this room.
“Lucas,” she breathes, her voice laced with desire, her hands sliding up to tangle in my hair. “We shouldn’t… not like this.”
But even as she says it, there’s no hesitation in her touch, no resistance in the way she presses closer, her body arching against mine. I know she feels it too—the pull between us, the way it consumes everything else, leaving nothing but the raw need to be together.
I pull back just enough to look into her eyes, my breath ragged, my heart pounding in my chest. “Tell me to stop,” I whisper, my voice rough with restraint, with the effort it takes to hold back. “Tell me, and I will.”
She bites her lip, her eyes searching mine, and for a moment, I think she might say it, might tell me to stop. But then she shakes her head, her grip on my shirt tightening as she pulls me back to her, her lips crashing against mine with a need that matches my own.
“Don’t stop,” she murmurs against my mouth, her voice trembling with the same desire that’s tearing through me. “Don’t ever stop.”
That’s all the permission I need. I kiss her harder, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her against me as if I can’t get close enough.
The tension, the guilt, the fear—it all melts away in the heat of the moment, leaving nothing but the two of us, tangled together in a world that only we exist in.
My hands move to her waist, lifting her slightly so that she’s pressed against the wall, her legs wrapping around my hips. She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders, and it sends a thrill through me, knowing that I can make her feel this way, that she wants this as much as I do.
The water continues to pour over us, a relentless torrent that only heightens the intensity, making every touch, every kiss, feel more urgent, more desperate.
I can feel her heart pounding against mine, the heat of her body against the cool tile, and it’s driving me crazy, pushing me to the edge of control.
“Emily,” I murmur, my lips brushing against her ear, my voice thick with desire. “You’re mine. Do you understand that? No one else ever. Just me.”
She moans softly, her head falling back as she clings to me, her body trembling with the intensity of what we’re feeling. “Yes,” she whispers. “I’m yours, Lucas.”
The words send a shiver down my spine, and I can’t hold back any longer. I press her harder against the wall, my lips trailing down her neck, tasting the water, the salt of her skin.
The tension between us builds, the air thick with the promise of what’s to come, but there’s no rush, no need to hurry. I want to savor this, to make it last, to show her just how much she means to me.
She leans in, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss that’s softer this time, more tender, and I feel the last of my defenses crumble, leaving me completely exposed, completely hers.