Page 191 of Invisible Bars

His hands—wet, strong, shaking just a little—came up to cup my face like I was something fragile trying to survive in a brutal world.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that shit today,” he said, his voice low—not soft, but real. “I feel like I came into your life and made it worse. I didn’t plan for any of this… to fall for you.”

The world muted itself.

No movement, no sound—just the echo of his words ringing louder than anything else ever had.

And hearing Imanio say that—him—felt like something I wasn’t prepared for but had always wanted.

He kept going, eyes locked on mine, no longer hiding his true feelings.

“I didn’t think I had space for anything real; not with the shit I’m tied to and not in the world I move through. But you’re here now. I don’t know what the future looks like for us… but I know I’m not letting you go. You got me, Naji—in ways I ain’t even used to admitting.”

My tics were surprisingly quiet, considering the moment.

The water still ran hot, steam curling around us like a veil. My body pressed to his—skin to skin, heart pounding so loud it felt like it echoed in both of us. I didn’t move. My arms stayed locked around him, holding him like I wasn’t ready to let the world back in just yet.

Then, my wet, slightly trembling hands traveled down his abdomen—slowly, deliberately. My fingers traced along the ridges of muscle, every inch of him solid like he’d been carved out of tension and heat.

That wasn’t just a bonding moment beneath the steam or even about comfort anymore; it was the way his breath hitched when I touched lower and the way my body leaned into his like it already knew the rhythm we hadn’t found yet. I wasn’t thinking about safety or even love; I was thinking about how much I wanted him.

All of him. Right here. Right now.

Imanio’s eyes roamed my face, drinking in every flicker of emotion I couldn’t hide. He saw it—the hesitation, the nerves. But deeper than that, he saw thewant.

“Look at me,” he charmingly instructed.

I did. God, I did.

“I’m ready,” I sheepishly admitted.

A knowing, teasing grin crossed his features.

“You sure? Right now? With everything I am and everything I’ve done, you’re sure about this?”

My throat bobbed and my lips parted.

“Meatloaf missionary—don’t judge me!”

I winced so hard I almost crumbled.

“Naji, I ain’t perfect, and I damn sure ain’t gentle with the things I want. So I need to know… are you really sure you want this?”

His eyes gravitated to his dick, and so did mine.

“Yes!” I answered, sharp and sure—no hesitation, no second-guessing.

Imanio’s eyes searched mine like he needed to see it written in my soul.

“Say you want this,” he murmured, his fingers brushing over my jaw, slow and reverent—like he was tracing something he didn’t think he deserved but wasn’t willing to let go of.

“I… I want it,” I said, voice cracking on the first word—then stronger, steadier. “I wantyou.”

Imanio nodded slowly, his dark eyes locked onto mine, and then he kissed me—slow and possessive, as if he were sealing a pact. It was the kind of kiss that didn’t ask for permission; it declared a promise of protection and belonging. The warmth of his lips sent a thrilling shiver through me. When he finally pulled back, I was breathless and slightly dazed.

“You’re mine now, Naji, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you feel safe and cherished.”

I could barely muster the courage to respond.