“Fuck,” he says before bowing his head a little. I watch him as he steps away from me and turns on the shower, letting the bathroom fill with steam. He doesn’t talk, but has a permanent scowl on his face, and I am left sitting on the vanity, my body in his white shirt, now also tarnished with red.

My eyes widen as he strips naked in front of me, throwing his stained clothes into a messy pile on the floor. I need to grip onto the vanity to ensure I don’t fall at the vision of all-man before me. I have never seen a fully naked man before, and Dante is huge. Everywhere is huge. His brown eyes remain on me, yet my eyes travel downwards. I take in his very aroused state, before I quickly avert my eyes, and no doubt my red cheeks do very little to hide my ogling.

His nostrils flare as he watches me looking at him, and then he steps into the shower. I look at him as he runs his hands over his body, washing away the blood, before he starts to touch himself. I watch him pump his cock slowly, all the while his eyes remain on me. I swallow hard, my nerves now totally overtaking my body as I wipe my sweating palms on my thighs, unable to look away. My body begins to tingle, my underwear becomes wetter, my nipples peak, my heart races. I haven’t felt like this before, and I am at war with myself because I want to join him. I want to strip down and get naked in the shower with him. But I am not sure how. I don’t know what to do. Should I stay here in the bathroom with him, or should I go back to bed? I want to stay, but am I woman enough for him?

He continues to watch me, and I want to be near him. I want my hand to be on his body. I want to grip onto him and give him pleasure. My eyes continue to flick between his and his movement. I’m still as I wage war in my mind on whether to continue to sit and watch or go to him. He remains where he is, waiting, watching me, letting me make my own decision.