His kisses glides down her neck in the same way the hot water falls over her skin. He cradles her from behind, his arms dangling around her waist. His nose nudges her thick hair over her shoulder and off to the side — he has her bare skin all for his mouth to roam.
His lips graze the slope of her neck, following the edge of her turn as she tips her head to the right, lets his mouth settle into the soft juncture of her neck and the bottom of her jaw. Her mouth falls open, and a long drawn out breath follows. She releases a small moan he can barely hear over the roar of the shower.
He stops his advance, plants a soft kiss to mark his place, and then bends his head down to bite her on the shoulder. She inhales sharply — and it’s about now that she suddenly opens her eyes and pulls herself out before she melts into the feel of his lips, his fingertips on her skin. She whirls around, draping her hands behind his head and clocking her forehead softly against his.
“Okay, that’s enough,” she chides. “You’ve had more than enough time in the stream.” And then without warning, she drags him around, flipping their positions so that his body is completely out of the water flow.
He shivers briefly, feeling his skin prickle as it dries. He chuckles softly, settling into the new temperature of the air. “I thought I would have distracted you long enough,” he murmurs.
“You think?” she replies in a breathy laugh.
“And it would have worked if you’d just let me,” is what he thinks to say, his retort on the tip of his tongue.
But before he does, he lifts his eyes to catch her staring at him, eyelids heavy, lashes curtaining the sapphires of her irises — and it’s only one, two seconds before he realizes that it’s his eyes that are caught in her ocean gaze.
She smiles, and his words become steam.