I feel light-headed as the hot water from the shower drills into my back. The steam rises around me, and this beautiful woman stands in front of me, coated in my desire. Panting, her chest moves up and down, her bare breasts glistening, even more so now that I have branded her. Her cheeks are flushed, her body covered in my wet white shirt, hiding nothing but everything at the same time. She looks fucking perfect. I know she is innocent, that she has not experienced anything like that before, and the fact that I am the first man she has ever touched, ever marked her, it is enough to make me fucking hard all over again. My grip on the shower frame is solid, but I don’t dare let go because I am afraid of what I will do next. Grabbing her and ripping my shirt from her petite frame is extremely appealing right now.

She releases her hold on me and runs her hands up my torso, looking at my scarred and tattooed body, investigating the story that it tells from years of war, near misses, and chaos. She stands close to me now, the water falling on both of us as it continues to run pink, blood now mixed with water. I lower my hands slowly, moving them around her neck, admiring how good she feels in my grip. I squeeze my hands a little, and her eyes widen slightly. There is no fright in her stare as her lips part, and I hear her breath hitch, but from arousal.

Anyone else would be begging me to let go already, knowing that with a simple twist, I could make their life leave their body. But not her. Little Red is almost inquisitive as she continues to explore my naked body with her hands, hers still draped in my wet white shirt. It’s the same one she has been wearing to bed each night, and I would be lying if I said that wasn’t a massive turn on. It is too big for her, perfect nightwear, yet I am itching to rip it off her and show her exactly what I have been thinking of doing since I jumped on her during the gunfire at Allure weeks ago.

She steps into the flowing water a little more, and I watch her as she washes her chest, and Goddamnit, what she does to me should be illegal.

Her hands reach my shoulders and then stop abruptly. She has found the knife wound. The one that needs at least ten stitches, yet feels numb due to the fire that heats my body from her touch.