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“Ticklish?” I ask, though I already know the answer. I’ve mapped every inch of her body, learned all her little tells and triggers. But I love hearing her laugh.

“You know I am.” She kicks a bit of water at me, playful despite her exhaustion.

I capture her foot before she can splash me again, pressing my thumb into the arch until she moans. “Behave, or I’ll stop.”

“Liar.” Her smile is knowing. “You’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

She’s not wrong. There’s something intoxicating about caring for her like this, about having her completely at my mercy and using that power only to pleasure her. It’s a different kind of dominance than our usual encounters, but no less potent.

I switch to her other leg, lavishing it with the same attention. By the time I finish, she’s purring with contentment.

The washcloth travels higher, skating across her stomach. Her abdominal muscles jump beneath my touch. When I reach her breasts, I abandon the cloth in favor of my bare hands, cupping their perfect weight.

“Zeke.” Her voice holds a note of warning, but her body betrays her as she arches into my touch.

I brush my thumbs across her nipples, watching them pebble. “Yes, love?”

“You’re supposed to be washing me.”

“I am.” I demonstrate by gathering some bubbles and using them to massage her breasts, paying special attention to the sensitive undersides. “Very thoroughly.”

Her laugh turns into a gasp when I pinch her nipples lightly. “This doesn’t feel like washing anymore.”

“No?” I trail one hand lower, beneath the water. “Should I stop?”

Her thighs part instinctively as my fingers dip between them. “Don’t you dare.”

But I do stop, pulling back to grab the shampoo instead. Her frustrated groan makes me chuckle.

“Patience,” I remind her again. “Turn around for me.”

She shifts until her back is to me, grumbling under her breath about teasing husbands. I gather her wet hair in my hands, working the shampoo into a rich lather. My fingers massage her scalp in slow circles, drawing out another moan.

“That feels amazing.”

I take my time, making sure to hit all the spots that make her melt. By the time I’m done, she’s practically boneless against the side of the tub.

“Rinse,” I instruct, guiding her to lean back.

Water cascades through her dark hair as I rinse away the shampoo, careful not to let any suds run into her eyes. The trust she shows in these moments never fails to humble me. This fierce, independent woman who fights monsters for a living, letting me care for her so completely.

I follow the shampoo with conditioner, working it through the length of her hair. The silky strands slip through my grasp like water.

“I love your hair,” I say, gathering it over one shoulder to expose her neck. I press a kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Love how it feels wrapped around my fist when I’m taking you from behind.”

She shivers. “Zeke.”

“Love how it looks spread across my pillow.” Another kiss, lower on her neck. “Love watching it fall around us like a curtain when you ride me.”

Her breathing grows heavier as I continue my assault on her neck, alternating kisses with gentle bites. My hands slide down her arms, then back up to cup her breasts again.

“Please,” she whispers.

“Please what?” I squeeze her nipples, just hard enough to make her gasp. “Tell me what you want, love.”

Instead of answering, she turns in my arms and rises to her knees. Water streams down her body as she straddles my legs, her hands going to my waist.

“I want you,” she says, green eyes dark with desire. “Now.”