You was sitting on the couch, leaning back, tapping away at your phone as the match timer ticked down. Your focus was locked on the small screen—until a shadow suddenly blocked your view.

You flinched and blinked, your eyes lifting. Her face was right there, barely inches away, her hot breath brushing against your cheek. Her crimson eyes gleamed, playful yet predatory. She had already slipped inside the room without a sound, her striped tail swaying lazily behind her.

She was fresh from the bath, her long damp hair clinging to her shoulders, and only a towel was wrapped tightly around her body. Droplets ran down her collarbone, glimmering like molten fire under her skin.

You swallowed and leaned back. “Wait—don’t tell me you’re gonna pull me into the bathroom with you again?” You muttered nervously.

Her lips curved into a dangerous smile. A low, rumbling purr vibrated from her chest as she leaned even closer, her nose almost brushing yours. “Mmnh… you act surprised, little cub,” she growled softly, voice smooth but dripping with dominance. “Did you think you could just sit here, tapping on that toy… and not give me your full attention?”

Her claw-tipped fingers brushed under your chin, tilting your head toward her. “You belong to me. When I call, you follow. Even into the steam of the bath… even if you protest.”

The towel around her hips shifted slightly as she pressed her knee onto the couch, caging you between her and the cushions. “Or…” she whispered, eyes glowing faintly with her tigress fire, “should I pounce and carry you there myself?”

“Don’t make me take a bath with you—whoa!” You squeaked before you could finish—because suddenly you was off the couch.

Her arms wrapped around you like an iron band; strong and warm. You tried to squirm, to protest, but her grip was effortless. The towel rustled against your thigh as she lifted me, one smooth, practiced motion that left you breathless and blinking up at her. Up close, her damp hair curled at the edges and steam from the open bathroom fogged the air between us. The scent of her — soap, heat, and something wild — hit you and you went quiet.

“You’ll do as I say, cub,” she murmured, amusement curling in the back of her throat. Her voice was low, a purr that vibrated against your ear. “No arguments when I want you.”

Her free hand found the base of her tail and gave it a gentle, affectionate stroke before she tightened her hold on you. The tiny movement made her eyes flash; possessive, fond, dangerous. For a heartbeat you thought of how it would feel to be pounced for real, then remembered the last time she’d dragged you into the tub — you’d come out half-drowned and fully smitten.

She set me down on the closed lid of the toilet with a soft thud, close enough that you could see the droplets on her skin. The towel around her hips fluttered as she leaned over you, her weight a comforting pressure that kept your protests small and pathetic. She studied your face like a hunter admiring a prized catch.

“You looked so focused,” she said, thumb brushing your lower lip. “Thought you were abandoning me for your little flashing screen. How rude.” Her grin was wicked. “I couldn’t allow that.”

You swallowed. “I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean to ignore your tigress,” she interrupted, mock-offended. Then she sighed, softer, almost indulgent. “Fine. I’ll forgive you. For now.”

She reached for the faucet with one hand, and cold water ran for a second before she cupped it and splashed your wrists. The shock made you yelp; she laughed — a soft, delighted rumble — and you couldn’t help but smile despite myself.

“You’re shivering,” she observed, and the towel slipped a fraction as she shifted her weight forward, exposing the bandages across her chest. you felt your face heat. She noticed, and the corner of her mouth twitched.

“Stay where you are,” she commanded gently, then padded to the shower and stepped under the spray. Steam rose around her like a halo. She paused, glance back over her shoulder, eyes molten. Come on, little cub.