“I need to clean up before they get here. I’m sticky,” I say, wiping my arm across my forehead.
When I look over, Viktor is watching me, his eyes more focused than they were just a moment ago. His gaze slips down my body, and I know what he is thinking.
I wasn’t thinking it, but I am now.
“Are you going to shower, too?” I ask innocently.
He nods slowly. “I should.”
We stare at one another for a long time, and I can feel the unspoken question in the tilt of Viktor’s head as he watches me.
Is it too soon? Too soon to want this after what happened today? Are you ready? Are we okay?
Honestly, the right answer might be that it is far too soon. That I’m too raw to make a good decision or think clearly. But right now, I don’t care about being right. I’d rather be wrong with Viktor than right without him.
So, in answer, I grab his hand and pull him behind me all the way back upstairs and into the bathroom. I let go only to start the water and let it get warm.
The room quickly starts to fill with steam, and I turn back to him and undo the button of his jeans. Viktor watches my fingers carefully, as though his very life depends upon my next movements. I grab the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one quick motion. He lifts his arms to help, stretching the strong muscles of his abdomen in a way that makes my mouth water. Then, he pushes his jeans down while I start to take my own jeans off.
I only wiggle my hips once to shimmy out of my jeans before Viktor replaces my hands with his own and hooks his fingers in the waistband. He drops to his knees in front of me in nothing more than his boxers and peels the denim down, his eyes taking in the sight of me, inch by inch until I’m free of the pants, and he can sweep his fingers over my skin.
The room is entirely foggy now. The air is thick and warm, but goose bumps still rise over my arms and legs as Viktor grabs the hem of my shirt and pushes it up my body, his palms sliding over my breasts as he lifts it over my head.
As soon as the shirt is gone, his mouth drops to my neck, and I lose track of what happens to my panties and bra, but I don’t care. Burn them. I’ll never wear undergarments again if the reward is this feeling. This heady, blissed-out warmth that seeps into my head and heart and lungs and makes everything okay.
That is when it hits me that Viktor is a drug.
I’ve made it a point not to become a statistic. To not be another homeless person on drugs who makes money only to spend it on her next fix. I’ve always been proud of keeping myself clean.
Yet, here I am, needing Viktor. Despite the lows he has brought into my life, he has also brought the highest highs. Those highs are what I keep chasing.
Having his body close to me, his protection, his loving gaze and warm smile is what keeps me coming back again and again. It is what makes it hard to leave.
Viktor presses my body against his, and I feel his excitement on my hip as he carries me into the shower. He stands with his back to the spray, blocking me from most of the water. When I look up, water is hitting his back and spraying outward, catching the light so it looks like there is a halo around his head.
The image is almost absurd.
My Viktor is as beautiful as an angel, but he is no angel. He should be swathed in shadows and darkness, not light.
My Viktor.
He dips his head, water washing over his shoulders and down his chest, and I follow the path with my fingers, touching each curve of his abdomen and following the slope of the deep indentation that leads from his hip to …
Viktor moans when I wrap my hand around him, and he tips his head back, letting the water hit him directly in the face.
I laugh and stroke him again, but a second later, I’m the one moaning. Viktor’s hand slides between my thighs and finds my center easily.
I’m wet and ready for him, and he slides a digit into me and then another, pulsing into me with slow, deliberate movements that make it hard for me to focus on what I set out to do. So, I try to match my hand to the speed of his movements, though they feel clumsy as I start to lose fine motor skills.
I lean forward and rest my cheek against Viktor’s strong, damp chest. He kisses my temple, and it feels like the most tender moment I’ve ever experienced in my life.
We are naked, standing in harsh fluorescent lighting, bringing each other pleasure, and I realize I’ve never been this close with anyone in my life. Ever. I’ve never been this vulnerable, this open, this honest.
Tears start to burn in my eyes, and I try to fight them back. I don’t want Viktor to get the wrong idea about them. I don’t want him to think I don’t want this, because I do. More than anything. In fact, I’m tempted to demand we start every day like this. If he is going to live with me, it only makes sense. It will save both water and time.
Viktor slides his fingers from me and grabs my face with his other hand, tilting my chin up so I’m looking into his eyes. Then, he brings his two fingers to his lips and slips them into his mouth, tasting me.
I’m not sure why, but that pushes me over the edge. Tears begin to slip down my cheeks, and I hope maybe he’ll think it is just the water from the shower, but Viktor is more observant than that. He grabs my face with both of his hands and begins kissing my face, licking the salty tears away.
“Please,” I say softly. It is the only word I can manage, but Viktor knows what I need.
He hooks his hands under my thighs and lifts, and I curve my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles behind his back. Then, he maneuvers my hips, positions himself at my opening, and pushes me onto him like I was built for this very thing. Like our bodies were made for this.
I gasp when he slides into me to the very hilt and grip his body with my legs as hard as I can, desperate to keep him there. I roll my hips against him, and Viktor stumbles forward and presses my back against the tile. It is cold, but I don’t care. The heat between our bodies is more than enough to sustain me and keep us both warm.
“You feel so good,” he groans, his lips pressed against my neck. I arch my entire body into him, giving myself to him in every way I can. Giving myself to this moment and this sensation and this goodness.
Because there is goodness within him. He is a good man who has done bad things, but who hasn’t?
Viktor slides out of me and thrusts back in, and my ability to think about anything other than him dissipates. Soon, we are hands and lips and bodies crashing against one another, aching to be filled by the other in ways both physical and not, and we don’t slow until we are both trembling.
My body clenches around him, and Viktor thrusts and holds, releasing everything into me.
He lowers me gently back to the ground and then grabs the soap from the shelf above my head and smooths it down my body.
He washes me with gentle touches, and then I return the favor, soaping him up and rinsing him off, all the while admiring the exquisite shape of his body. The perfect lines and edges and shades of him.
“You’re beautiful,” I say, not realizing I’ve said it out loud until Viktor chuckles.
He grabs my chin and presses a kiss to my mouth. “You’re perfect.”
It might be my post-orgasmic bliss, but the towels feel fluffier, and the air smells sweeter. I definitely have rose-colored glasses on with no intention of taking them off anytime soon.
Then, my phone on the counter vibrates, and I check it to see it is Niamh.