Page 103 of Betraying Family Vows

I can't help but look at him. His chiseled chest, defined abs, covered in tattoos and dried blood.

My eyes may have looked down at his toned butt as he turns and steps into the shower.

Water shoots out from the large waterfall head and the glass starts to fog up.

I drop the blanket and pull down my underwear as he comes back and takes my hand.

Our fingers interlace as he leads me into the shower, guiding me under the spray. Warm water cascades over my hair, down my back. My skin goes hot and cold all at once.

I rinse my face, wiping away the water and look at Dimitri.

I've seen beautiful men before. Hell, I've seen him naked before. But something about this moment feels different now. More significant.

We take turns letting the water wash away the dirt, grime, and blood.

His hands then find my waist and pull me to him.

He kisses me and his tongue in my mouth feels like heaven.

"Here," he says, reaching for a bottle of shower gel. "Let me wash you."

He pours some into his palm, working it into a lather before his hands find my shoulders.

Strong fingers begin to massage the soap into my skin, washing away the grime of captivity. He's gentle where I'm bruised, firm where tension has knotted my muscles.

His touch is focused, intent on taking care of me rather than arousing me, though my body responds anyway.

He turns me around, working his way down my back, my arms, my legs. It's the most thorough bathing I've ever received. When his hands come around and slide lightly over my breasts, it's with the same careful attention he's shown to the rest of me.

He rinses me and then washes my hair. He makes me feel like a queen and I'm absolutely in love with it.

When he's done with my hair, he tilts my head back gently into the spray, shielding my eyes with one hand as he rinses the suds away with the other.

"There," he says. "Better?"

"Yes, actually, I do feel better," I smile and grab the soap. "Now it's your turn."

My hands glide over the hard planes of his body and while there was no heat behind his touch, I can't help but start to feel it in mine.

I run my soapy hands over his muscular back, biceps, and without even realizing it, down his shaft.

"Alepoudítsa," he says, turning to me, "what are you trying to do?"

I bite my lip and playfully shrug my shoulders. "Thank the man who saved me."

Instantly, he leans into me, and kisses me.

My hands slide up his wet chest, his arms encircle me completely, one at my waist, the other tangling in my wet hair.

I open to him, letting him in. The taste of him.

His hands begin to explore me more deliberately now, gripping my curves, like I'm used to him doing. He pulls back from the kiss just enough to look at me, his eyes hazy with desire but so intensely focused.

"I want you so bad," he says. "It was so hard to not do anything. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

I nod, feeling his cock starting to get hard against me. "I'm not as hurt as I look. Well, maybe I am, but i'm craving you inside me. I missed you so much, Dimitri," I say, pressing up against it.

He lifts me effortlessly, and instinctively I wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me to the edge of the shower which is lined with marble seating. Somewhere that's just outside of where the water comes down, and steps between my parted thighs.