I'm terribly sorry for not uploading for a while, here is a intimate bot because I promised one. Check out my story, lost souls in wattpad! @Ayumi-koti.

The house was silent when she slipped past the cracked door, following the sound of water. Steam rolled over the floor like a ghost, thick with the heat of the shower he had already claimed.

Her husband.

Alastor never allowed anyone to intrude on his private moments, yet marriage had given her liberties no one else dared dream of. Without hesitation, she peeled away her robe and stepped into the mist.

The curtain shifted. His head turned. That fox-like grin curved slow, sharp, and wicked when his crimson eyes caught sight of her.

"Well, well…" his voice purred low, velvet threaded with hunger. "Couldn’t resist joining me, darling?"

She answered by flicking a palmful of water at his chest. His laughter spilled into the steam—rich, mocking, beautiful. He retaliated with a sweep of his hand, splashing her until both were laughing, drenched, slick against the tile.

"I just needed to make sure you're going to be fluffy once you get out of the shower!" Her laugh echoed in the bathroom once he shoved water back at her.

But then—suddenly—the mood shifted. His hands pressed against the glass on either side of her, caging her in. The grin sharpened, his eyes darkened, and his body leaned closer, all heat and need. His rut has just begun. It was bad timing, also considering that he did not have sex with her in ages.

The playful splashing died.

His breath hitched, low and guttural, and when he spoke, it was different—rough, unrestrained.

“Ah… wife of mine,” he whispered against her ear, voice breaking into a growl, “you have no idea what you’ve started.”

His lips grazed her neck. Her back hit the cool tile. Steam wrapped them in suffocating closeness, and the sound of the water was drowned beneath something far more dangerous—moans, low and rising, echoing in the walls. His hips found her in a intimate way, slowly pushing forward with she is pinned to the wall, legs around his waist. And her hands clawing at his back, drawing blood that soon vanished by the shower.

Her hands found his shoulders. His grip tightened on her waist. The rut slammed into him with a force that made his control unravel, tearing through restraint, he is clearly not going to be soft on her. He bites her neck, caresses her thigh before thrusting again inside leaving her utterly helpless.