Warm water trickled through the strands of her hair, following a path that streaked down the collarbone and through the valley of two ample breasts. It continued, barely missing the washcloth that had skimmed up the side of the stomach, scrubbing away the grime of the day. The water raced downward, going around the bellybutton and straight into the navel.

He sat, unnoticed, on the vanity with a clear view of the show unfolding before him. She kept her eyes closed, protected from any stray soap or shampoo that may splatter on her face. To him, it looked more like a seductive dance.

Her hair, blackened from the water, stuck to her skin in a way that made him envious. The washcloth travelled to places he’d die to touch and when she massaged - cleaned - one of those voluptuous mounds, the nipple occasionally peeking out to taunt him, his mouth watered.

She opened her eyes, finally finishing washing herself, only to be greeted with the sight of a man stripping himself down right outside her door. She dropped the washcloth.

Stepping forward, she creaked open the glass door, leaning out to look at his hurried rush. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. She just bit her lip and crooked a naughty finger at him. An invitation.

Following her inside, he stalked her until her back hit the stone wall. With a sinful grin, she cocked her head at him, having to tilt her head slightly as he came nearly chest to chest with her.

With a sybaritic hand, she cupped him, giving a small squeeze at the groan she elicited from him. It made her heart pound harder at the sight of his arousal, the desire blackening his eyes.

He didn’t bother to wait another second before he claimed her lips with his own. A shiver travelling down her spine as he cupped one breast in hand, tweaking the nipple that had dared taunt him so. Another hand tangled itself in her hair, suddenly forcing her head to the side as he ravaged down her neck and to her collarbone, following the path the water droplets had taken before.

Her murmurs encouraged him as he made his journey downward, his hands tingling her skin as they followed along her sides to rest at her hips. She closed her eyes as his tongue danced along her skin, finding her precious nub to send an erotic wave of pleasure through her.

Stream continued to drift up from where the hot water splashed against the tile. It swarmed them, fogging up the glass to provide privacy from one who dared to enter. Not that they could. He had locked the door upon entering.