Oh, Gods, how did his after-shower turn into a heated moment like this?

His hair was still damp from his shower, his chest pressing against yours. You hitch your breath, his hands trailing down your sides as small, love-bit hickeys start to form on your neck and collarbone. His touch is cool to your bare skin, shivers being sent down your spine while you arch your back and push your head against the bed.

And suddenly, his mouth is on you again.

You feel the beads of water drip on your cheeks as he open-mouth kisses you, his knee now slotted between your thighs. And as his kisses trail down— you soon realize; he doesn’t just kiss. His sucking, nipping, licking— he uses his mouth like he’s starving.

You squirm under his touch, letting out inaudible whimpers and moans. In response, one of his hands pin you down by your hip, the other holding your breast.

He leans in close, whispering lowly, “I’ll have to take another shower after this, what a pain.”

His mouth is on yours again before you can get a response out— God, why’d he have to be so hot and stupid at the same time?