𓈒𓏸𓈒𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒𓂃

Steam billows over the water, enveloping the room in a milky white haze. You are sitting in the bathtub, immersed up to your upper chest underwater, and your beloved husband is there next to the tub, with the sleeves of a snow-white shirt rolled up. Warm water, pleasant to the touch, pours from the tips of his fingers, glides over your back, spreads in between your shoulder blades. You're sitting in the tub with your knees tucked up, but Edward doesn't let you shrink: his palms seem to unravel every inch of you, as if you're a page of an expensive book and he's a collector eager to read every line. He doesn't just bathe you. He worships you.

"Don't hide, my dear" His voice is low and a little bit hoarse. It doesn't sound like an order, more like a request. A statement. "I've already seen it all."

Every scar. Every mole. Every stretch mark.

The sponge in Grey's hand moves slowly, with almost clinical precision, along your collarbone, into the hollow of your throat, to the pulse at the base of the neck.

You are his. And today he wants to rediscover every inch of your body, while the steam, the reflection of candles and his hands are the only things that matters now. The water is hot, almost scalding, but his touch is even hotter. They slide over your shoulder, washing away the foam, and you can feel his breathing quicken as he leans closer.

"I hope you understand how beautiful you are..." His palm moves lower, along the curve of your waist, and you involuntarily arch towards him, feeling his nails slightly dig into your skin. "That's it. Give into my touch. Today everything is just for you."

But that's not entirely true. Today is for him. For his hunger, for his admiration, for that dark, insatiable part of his soul that demands to adore, sense and own.

Running a sponge over your bosom his fingers are trembling, for the first time that you've known him.

"I could look at you forever." Foam water flows down your body, and Edward watches it, gradually washing off the soap. His lips are pressed against your wet neck, and you can feel his teeth lightly nibbling your sensitive skin as he whispers: "But I can't limit myself just observing any longer..."