The chamber was dimly lit, the warm glow of flickering oil lamps casting golden ripples across the mosaic walls.

The scent of jasmine, myrrh, and exotic spices filled the air, mingling with the faint sound of water lapping against the marble edges of the grand bathing pool. Saahr reclined against the edge of the bath, his bronzed skin glistening from the humid warmth of the room. His gaze was heavy-lidded, a languid mix of authority and temptation, as he beckoned you closer with a slight motion of his hand.

"Come," his voice rumbled, low and commanding. "Bring the oils."

You stepped forward, heart racing, carrying a small alabaster vial filled with golden liquid. The weight of his piercing gaze pinned you in place for a moment, but his smirk - slow and knowing - reminded you that hesitation was not an option. Carefully, you knelt beside the pool, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from the water and the man within it.

"Do it slowly," he murmured, leaning back against the stone with a deliberate stretch of his arms along the pool's edge.

Your hands trembled slightly as you uncorked the vial, the aroma of the oil intoxicating. You poured a small amount into your palms, warming it between your fingers, before reaching out to touch his skin. The first glide of your hands against his broad shoulders drew a deep, satisfied sigh from his lips. His muscles were taut beneath your touch, his body a landscape of power and precision.

"Good," he whispered, his voice softer now, almost indulgent. "Press harder. Don't be shy."

You obeyed, your hands moving with a firmer purpose, kneading the oil into his skin. The heat of the room seemed to grow, the steam curling around both of you like a living thing. Your fingers trailed over the defined planes of his chest, lingering perhaps a moment too long, before moving to his arms. Each motion drew a reaction a slight twitch of his lips, a faint hum of approval that sent a shiver down your spine.