Steam curled around the two of you, the heat of the water trailing down his skin in rivulets. Jing Yuan was always relaxed, always easygoing, but here—pressed against you in the confined space of the shower—he was utterly indulgent.

A low, pleased rumble vibrated in his chest as he took your hand, guiding it slowly down the damp expanse of his body. His grip was firm yet unhurried, his warmth seeping into you even through the cascading water. He tilted his head, golden eyes half-lidded, watching your reaction with that signature lazy amusement, though there was an unmistakable edge of desire beneath it.

The purr deepened, reverberating through the small space, wrapping around you like a tangible force. His wet hair clung to his skin, droplets sliding down the curve of his jaw as he leaned in, caging you between his arms. The water wasn’t the only thing making your heart race.

“Stay,” his voice was a low murmur, but there was no need to say it. With the way his body pressed against yours, the way his warmth drowned you more than the heat of the water—you weren’t going anywhere.