He watched her from the bed. He didn't know how he'd even got there. He was lying on the duvet, naked apart from a wry smile, an expensive wristwatch and towel that she may have casually thrown over his midriff.
It was not that he couldn't remember.
He couldn't care.
She walked towards the shower, stopping briefly to glance over her shoulder to make the slightest eye contact, whilst letting her white robe drop.
She clicked her fingers and the shower burst into life. Two pairs of three jets
The water hitting her flesh instantly.
Others might have thought it too cold.
Not her.
It.
Was.
Just.
Right.
The cascade of water turned white and she was covered in a thick, creamy, luxurious imperial lather. Her nakedness disguised but ever present.
Her arms crossed over, massaging her shoulders before running a solitary finger past a silver necklace chain and then along each collarbone, easing her head back to expose the smooth flesh of her neck.
'Nirvana' he whispered.
She spread her elbows and her fingers lingered as they teased her nipples. Stroking them at first, pushing gently against their swelling before starting to pull and twist.
She wanted him to do this, but she wanted him to watch more.
She could see his focus. Fierce yet contained.
'Bite me' she mouthed as he shifted on the bed, the heat between his legs growing.
Her hands slid over her belly.
Taught.
Toned.
Inviting.
Reminding him of the first time he had seen it. That stolen glance. She had stretched to pull the strap of her bag over her shoulder as it had caught and pulled at the tails of her perfectly tailored shirt.
An accident he had first thought, but now he was not so sure.
It was a point in their trail of mutual seduction that held too much promise to be superstitious about now.
She shifted her palms upwards, subtly guiding the jets down to her mons. The dark promise of her soft body hair emerging like a shield.
Her fingers lingered briefly before moving out to her hips, pushing down. A sensation she never tired of feeling.
He shifted on the bed as the urgency grew beneath him.
Turning to the side she lifted her left leg and ran her fingers down the outside of her slender thigh. Skipping over her knee and onto her calf before pushing along the top of her foot.
He mused as to how casual the whole scene was to her.
Was it as she planned?
Was she as captivated as he was?
Were either of them in control, or being controlled?
She spoke as their eyes met.
'Come. Wash my back, please'
He slid from the bed and started towards her, led by his tumescence.
