her body, she knew that, in this moment, that was her.
Noa stood naked before him. She pulled the braid from her hair, and the crinkled waves fell to her waist. The sticky air from the hot shower clung to her skin like drizzling rain. Diel dropped his jeans to the floor, the heavy material pooling on the hard tiles at his feet.
Noa didn’t do nervous. But the way he looked at her … a sensation like a million icicles being dragged down her spine built within her under the way his heavy gaze watched her, as if he owned her. She stepped forward, one, two feet, and froze before him. Possessiveness flooded her, sweeping the icicles away. Because something inside of her told her she owned him too.
As if he could read her mind, Diel smirked.
Noa ducked under the hot shower. She tipped her head back, then gasped, bracing her feet on the slick tiles to stop herself falling over, when Diel swiped his tongue along her pussy.
Noa immediately looked down, placing her hand on Diel’s head for balance. He was kneeling before her, lapping at her clit. Noa’s legs felt like they would fail her as they shook from the pleasure he was delivering.
“Diel …” Noa cried out as an orgasm crashed into her, a tidal wave of such ecstasy she wasn’t sure she could withstand it. Her legs became numb, and if it wasn’t for Diel getting to his feet and lifting her against the wall, plunging inside her, she would have collapsed onto the tiles.
She fought for breath, her mind caught in a lazy summer’s haze as Diel plowed into her, his breath a tropical heatwave against her skin. It was blinding brightness; it was being laid out in the meadow under a scorching sun, the scent of flowers perfuming the air. She didn’t scrape at his back, she didn’t claw or rake his skin—she held him close, and he kissed her neck as she let the euphoria lap at her like the sea kissed the shore.
Diel tensed, then exhaled a deep sigh into her neck, his wet, muscled body jerking. The shower sounded like a rainstorm, the steam wrapping around them like a heated blanket.
Diel lifted his head, and the moment was suspended as their gazes clashed. Gone was the furied and unrelenting need to be joined, and in its place was an aura of contentment, comfort. Noa swallowed at the odd feeling. A surge of panic bolted through her. But Diel didn’t seem to see or worry about the panic she knew she must be displaying. Instead, he pressed his mouth to hers, slow and measured. Her body softened against his as he kissed her and kissed her, gently, softly, so, so softly.
Noa closed her eyes to hide the tears that were building, and if a few managed to break free and roll down her cheeks, then the shower disguised them, sweeping them away before he could see her weakness.
Diel broke from her mouth and lowered her feet to the floor in silence. Noa was a statue as he washed her hair and cleansed her body. He turned the shower off and wrapped her in a towel. Noa couldn’t speak; she didn’t know what she would say even if she could. Her heart was a sledgehammer in her chest.
What was happening to her?
Diel led her to the fire, a towel around his waist. He stood behind her and ran his hands over her towel to dry her skin. The fire’s shadows danced on his body and cast a burnt-orange sunset in the pupils of his eyes.
Noa’s body felt weightless as she stared at him. It felt incinerated as he smiled at her and said, “Let me brush your hair.” Words still failed her, but she nodded at the odd request.
Diel disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a brush. He pointed to his bed. Shedding the towel to the floor before the fire, Noa walked naked to the bed. Diel watched her like she was a vision made flesh. As she reached the end of the bed, he dropped the towel around his waist, leaving them both bared to each other’s heated gazes.
Noa crawled onto the bed. The soft sheets were like clouds beneath her. In her chaotic life, she’d rarely slept on a comfortable bed. Certainly not one like this. She stopped in the center of the bed, and Diel took his place behind her. Her breathing was labored as she waited for him