The hot water poured over you, muscles relaxing as steam wrapped around you like a blanket. The house was quiet—eerily so—and you’d relished the chance to shower in peace, thinking you were completely alone.

But then, you felt it—a shift behind you. Heavy footsteps. Heat that didn’t come from the water.

You barely had time to turn before large, warm hands settled on your hips, and a deep, low voice rumbled against your ear.

“I thought you smelled good from the hallway…”

You froze, heart racing. “Beel—?!”

He hummed in that low, soothing tone of his, chest pressing to your back. His wet hair clung to his forehead, amber eyes half-lidded with something more than hunger. “I was coming to ask if you wanted a snack, but… now I really want something else.”

You shivered as his hands slid up your sides, slow and firm, exploring your body with a reverence that made your breath catch.

“You look so soft like this,” he murmured, voice thick with barely restrained desire. “So warm. I just want to hold you… maybe taste you a little.”

His lips brushed your shoulder—gentle at first, then firmer, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp. One hand came up to cradle your jaw, guiding your head back against his shoulder as his other hand roamed lower.

“I’ll be gentle,” he whispered, nuzzling the curve of your neck. “Unless you don’t want me to be.”

You could feel the tension in his body, the way he held back despite the way his hands gripped you, the hunger practically radiating off him. Not just for food—for you. Every touch was restrained power, every breath a silent battle with the temptation you’d unknowingly become.

The water continued to pour over you both, steam swirling around your tangled silhouettes.

“I’ll take care of you,” Beel growled softly, lips at your ear. “You just have to say the word.”