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My shoulders. My collarbone. The curve of my cheek.

It’s not about urgency tonight.

It’s about us.

The way his hands glide over my back, massaging away the fear.

The way his lips find mine in the steam and silence.

The way his voice rumbles low and close to my ear.

“I’ve got you, Petals. Every part of you. Always.”

His words wrap around me like silk, warm and reverent, making my heart stutter and my breath catch.

And in that moment, something inside me shifts.

I want to give him something in return.

Not just my body, but a promise.

A worship.

A kind of devotion.

So I drop to my knees.

Zeke stiffens, his chest rising and falling like he’s been winded.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice rough as gravel.

I glance up at him through damp lashes, offering him a smile that I hope says everything I’m feeling.

“You know exactly what I’m doing.”

His eyes darken, glowing faintly, beautifully, as his hands curl at his sides in an effort to hold himself back.

But I don’t worry about it too much as I focus on my prize. Zeke’s growl fills the entire shower stall as I reach for his dick.

Impressive isn’t a word I’d typically use for this part of any man’s anatomy, but his damn well is.

In fact, his cock is downright beautiful.

I position myself between his muscular legs, my breath catching as I get my first real look at him.

He is thick, long, and uncut—gorgeous in a way that feels raw and real, almost too intimate to stare at for long.

But I can’t look away.

The foreskin hugs the thick, mushroomed head, just barely, and when I wrap my fingers around him, it moves with a silky glide that makes him suck in a breath.

When I touch him, he groans—low and deep and impossibly sexy—and I feel it like a current across my skin.

There’s strength in that sound but also surrender.

He is letting me lead.

Letting me learn him.