Page 88 of Wedded Witch
The bathroom door creaks open. I stiffen instantly, my hand freezing mid-lather.
“Kel, just leave the clothes on the counter!” I call out, hoping my voice doesn’t betray the sudden tension crawling up my spine. It’s stupid. We had sex. He’s seen me naked. Why am I suddenly shy?
The door clicks shut again, and I relax a fraction, but something feels off. I turn, glancing toward the counter. My heart skips a beat as my eyes lock onto Ri.
I know it’s him from the stubborn set of his brow. How did I ever confuse the three of them?
He’s standing there, a pile of clothes in his hand, his eyes burning into me with a gaze so intense it leaves me breathless. Heat floods my body, but it’s not from the water anymore.
“Ri—” I start, but the words die in my throat at the look in his eyes, a raw, lustful edge that sends a shiver down my spine. He’s not moving, just standing there, watching me with a hunger that’s impossible to ignore.
I swallow hard, my throat tight as Ri’s eyes track the movement, darkening with something that makes my skintingle. It snaps him out of whatever trance he was in, and he tosses the pile of clothes onto the counter without breaking eye contact.
Before I can process what's happening, he strides toward me, closing the distance in a few steps and crowding me into the shower. It’s really not big enough for both of us, and his whole demeanour is overbearing.
Overwhelming. Overpowering.
I force a small laugh, my voice shaky. “I was almost done. I can leave you to it if?—”
But he blocks my path, planting a hand on the tiled wall beside me, his body looming close, cutting off any chance of escape. His eyes flick down to mine, wary but burning, like he’s wrestling with something inside.
“You have...too many clothes on to shower,” I whisper, heart thudding in my chest, the tension between us thick and electric.
He doesn’t say a word, but the look he gives me speaks volumes. Slowly, deliberately, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it off in one smooth motion, despite how damp he is, revealing the hard planes of his chest.
My mouth dries, and my knees weaken as the water continues to pour down over us.
He undoes his belt next, dropping it to the shower floor with a thud that echoes in the small, steamy space. His jeans follow, and I can’t tear my eyes away.
Every inch of him is raw power, and my pulse races as I drink in the sight of him.
For a moment, neither of us moves. We just stand there, staring at one another, the weight of unspoken desire hanging between us like a loaded gun.
My breathing quickens, matching the rapid beat of my heart, and I wonder what will happen next.
Then, as if the universe knows exactly how to interrupt a moment, the shower cuts out with a spluttering hiss, and the lights go out, plunging us into darkness.
The only sound is the distant rumble of thunder and the soft drip of water from the showerhead.
The darkness presses in around us, thick and heavy, broken only by the occasional flash of lightning outside the bathroom window. I can hear the distant rumble of thunder, but all I can focus on is the heat radiating off Ri, his presence so overwhelming it feels like the air’s been sucked out of the room.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves, the swell outside mimicking the one building between us. Then, without warning, Ri closes the distance, crashing his mouth down onto mine in a kiss so hot, so possessive, it steals the breath from my lungs.
His fingers tangle in my wet hair, yanking my head back, forcing me to surrender completely to him.
The kiss is raw, aggressive, his lips moving over mine with a hunger that feels primal.
His tongue sweeps inside, claiming every inch of my mouth, leaving no room for hesitation or thought—only the fierce, consuming need to keep up with him.
My hands fly up to grip his shoulders, desperate to anchor myself as his other hand grips my hip, pulling me flush against him, the hard planes of his body pressing into mine.
I moan into his mouth, the noise swallowed by the intensity of the kiss. He growls in response, the sound vibrating through me, a primal sound that makes every nerve ending in my body light up.
His hand in my hair tightens, tugging sharply, controlling every movement of my head, and I gasp as he angles me exactly how he wants. He’s not gentle, not soft—he’s dominant, commanding, and it sends a shiver of heat straight down my spine.
His lips leave mine only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down my jaw and neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, marking me with every possessive press of his lips.
I can barely catch my breath, my body trembling beneath the intensity of his touch, the way he handles me like he’s finally claiming what’s his. He pulls back just enough for our foreheads to rest against each other, both of us panting in the dark.