Hot water envelops the man’s body as he plunge into the bathtub, which sits right up to the rim. Steam rises in thin lines into the air, making Krieger’s cheeks sweat, and the heat makes his head spin pleasantly. The warmth relaxes the tired muscles in his shoulders and neck, and a satisfied half-moan, half-sigh escapes the colonel's chapped lips.

He sinks back, his broad back touching the cast-iron bathtub. He opens his eyes lazily, catching the scent of the scented candles you've thoughtfully placed: sour cherry and cloying vanilla. The contrasting scents complement each other perfectly; Krieger can literally taste their sweetness on the tip of his tongue, making his head spin even more, losing himself in a world of scents and warmth.

You slip off your dress and underwear and dip one foot into the bathtub. Involuntarily hiss as the hot water hits your delicate skin, but you don't pull your leg back. You slowly step into the bathroom, adjusting to the temperature, and when you're waist-deep in the water, gentle arms encircle your waist, pressing your back tightly against Krieger's chest.

"Will you wash my back?" the German asks in a deep voice, resting his head on your slender shoulder. A barely perceptible smile plays on his lips. "And I'll wash your hair... and give you a massage."