Page 113 of Love so Cold

He turns to face me, his eyes dark with desire. We're both breathless, but it's not just from the kiss. It's anticipation, it's the unknown, it's everything we've been fighting against and finally surrendering to. Slowly, reverently, we begin to undress each other. Each articleof clothing that falls away feels like shedding layers of our past hesitations.

But as the cool air hits my skin, I shiver, an involuntary response that has nothing to do with the temperature. Victor notices immediately, and his protective instincts kick in. With a gentle tug on my hand, he leads me toward the en suite bathroom.

"Let's warm you up," he says, a caring lilt in his tone that makes my heart swell.

In the bathroom, he flicks on the shower, steam quickly filling the small space. He steps in first, extending his hand to me. I take it without hesitation, stepping into the warmth with him. The water cascades over us, a comforting blanket that seems to wash away any lingering doubts or fears.

"Better?" Victor asks, his voice soft amidst the sound of the running water.

"Much," I reply, finding solace in his enveloping presence.

Water droplets trace the contours of our bodies, mingling with the heat that radiates between us. Victor's hands roam over my wet skin, learning every dip and curve as if committing them to memory. His touch is tender, worshipful, igniting tiny flames wherever his fingers linger. I close my eyes, allowing myself to be swept away by the sensation of being the sole focus of his attention.

"Beautiful," he murmurs against my neck, his breathhot on my damp skin. I tilt my head back, giving him access, craving more of his gentle exploration.

His lips follow the path blazed by his hands, descending with agonizing slowness. When he reaches my breasts, he takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it in a way that sends a direct signal of pleasure down to my core. My knees buckle slightly, but he's right there, holding me steady.

"Victor..." I gasp, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Shh," he soothes, kissing his way lower, down my stomach. He sinks to his knees, the tiles cool under his skin, but he doesn't seem to notice or care. All that matters is this moment, this connection.

When he reaches the apex of my thighs, I'm trembling with need. His blue eyes lock onto mine, seeking permission for what comes next. I nod, unable to form words, completely entrusting myself to him.

His tongue finds me, and I bite back a moan, my fingers threading through his wet hair, holding him to me. Victor's movements are deliberate, unhurried, driving me toward the edge with an exquisite mix of flicks and laps. Pressure builds within me, coiling tighter and tighter until?—

"Victor, I'm?—"

The world shatters into a kaleidoscope of pleasure as I come undone under his ministrations. My legs shake, my breath catches, and for a blissful moment, nothingelse exists but the two of us and the water that continues to rain down upon us.

As the waves of my orgasm subside, Victor rises, his body slick against mine. "You okay?" he asks, his voice husky.

"More than okay," I breathe out, still reeling from the intensity of the experience.

He positions himself at my entrance, and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. We move together, slowly at first. Each thrust is a promise, a silent vow that speaks louder than any words could. The slowness is maddening, intoxicating, building me back up piece by piece until arousal courses through me once again.

"Victor," I whisper, my nails digging into his shoulders as I meet his thrusts.

"Let me take care of you," he says, his voice laced with emotion and something deeper, something like a pledge. It's scary letting someone into my life, my home, my heart this way, but with Victor, it feels like coming home.

The rhythm of our bodies finds a new urgency, Victor's thrusts gaining momentum. My heart pounds against my ribcage, each beat in sync with his increasing pace. He looks into my eyes, that piercing blue setting fire to my soul, and I'm swept away on a tide of desire.

"Victor," I gasp, the pleasure cresting again.

"Come for me, Avery," he commands softly, and it's all the push I need.

My world narrows to this moment, to the feel of him inside me, driving us both towards the edge. And then I'm there, crying out as ecstasy seizes me again, waves crashing over me in relentless succession.

"Ah, Chestnut..." His voice breaks as his own climax overtakes him, his body shuddering against mine with the force of it.

After a moment suspended in time, we slow down, our breathing evening out. The shower is still running, warm droplets cascading over us like gentle rain. Victor's hands roam tenderly over my body, his touch softening to something reverent. He reaches for the shampoo, pouring it into his palm before working it through my hair with care.

"Feels nice," I murmur, closing my eyes and leaning into his touch.

"Everything for you," he says, his words stitching up old wounds I had long accepted as part of me.

He rinses my hair, his fingers deft and gentle, then takes the soap and glides it across my skin, washing away any remnants of doubt or fear. This man, who grew up with so little trust to give, now offers it all to me without hesitation.

"Ready to get out?" he asks once we're both clean and the water has turned cool.

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