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The heat of the shower ghosts over my back, so I open the door, guide us both in, and shut the door. “No, I’m serious,” I say, nudging him into the hot spray that relaxes his body. “Watching you play rugby is fucking sexy, Raf. You played so well today. You scored that try and an assist. You commanded your teammates. You listened. And your body,” I say in awe, pumping body wash into a cloth and gently scrubbing his shoulders, then massaging them. “Your body is like a work of art.”
The smile I gave him fades as he relaxes deeper into my touch, and he inhales the steam. He enjoys the moment as I continue to wash him. The soapy bubbles form and fall away in a waterfall down his abused body, marred with both new and old bruises.
When I’m finished washing him, I move on to his hair, asking him to sit down so I can properly scrub and massage his scalp and he grunts in the process. “I couldn’t help but envision you as this protective, dominant, rugged man-beast,” I say, which in turn makes him chuckle. “I’m sorry if I came on too strong, though.”
“No, not at all. Come on stronger if you want. It was refreshing,” he says as I start to work the conditioner in. “I’ve never been dominated by a woman before. It’s always been other men if we were playing that dynamic.”
A pang of jealousy spikes through my body at his admission. I know better than anyone that he sleeps around, but something extra painful bites at my heart knowing other people have dominated him. In a logical sense—a sense that once mostly controlled my life—I know sleeping with other people is normal and expected outside the confines of a platonic relationship. But my pregnant ass doesn’t see it that way. I don't like it one bit.
“Ang, I’m all for the spa treatment, but can you remove your nails from my scalp?” he chuckles, and I leave my mental war. He continues, unaware and happy. “Honestly, I thought you’d be asking me for more action since we started this arrangement.”
“Oh,” I drawl, not expecting him to say that.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved what we’ve done so far but, I don’t know. I thought you needed me more.”
“Oh,” I repeat. The last of his conditioner is rinsed away, so I have him stand and lean him against the white tile wall. I lean into him, my round belly pressing against his flat one. “I actually haven’t been very upfront about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I didn’t want to freak you out with just how often I need…” Say relief. Say orgasms. Say anything but “You.”
“Oh, Angel, none of that now,” he says with a sad smile. “I’m serious. Anytime you need me, I’ll make myself available.” That sad smile transforms into a devilish grin though. “Afterall, it is my fault for being so sexy on the field today.”
The corners of my mouth curl up at that. “You know, with all that tackling and testosterone flying about, you’d think there’d be more players kissing in a ruck.”
His rumbling laugh vibrates through my body. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he teases.
“I just watch you guys and I’m like kiss kiss kiss. And I could ask you the same thing.”
“Oh, I’ve thought about it before, trust me.”
“It’s the ultimate rivals to lovers story,” I say coyly.
“Speaking of which, what other sexual scenarios do you wanna try courtesy of those spicy books?”
“How do you feel about role playing as a 2kraken?”
Rafael
I stare at her, jaw unhinged and eyes unblinking, but amused, nonetheless. “Never in a million years did I think those would be the words that would come out of your mouth.”
Biting her lip and looking anything but shy, her hands smooth down my hips and grip my thighs before saying, “Maybe it’s the fact that we’re in this shower and all wet…” she hisses, the obvious hunger clawing its way back into her body. My cock twitches as begins to writhe against mine—her full breasts sliding against my torso.
“You need me to be your kraken, Angel?”
“Yes please,” she breathes heavily.
“What’s the scene?”
Without hesitation, she launches into the backstory. “You’re a thousand-year-old grumpy kraken who’s been exiled from your community and the only way you can come back is if you steal an innocent human—me,” she nods, pointing to herself as if that isn’t obvious. “And bring her back as a sacrifice. But when you find me, you’re so entranced by my beauty and charmed by my sunshiny disposition that you simply cannot sacrifice me, cannot live without me,” she enunciates in a lower register, really getting lost in her own story. “And so you must choose between your exiled aquatic life or coming to land with me, where I must show you what your life could be like if the sea witch grants you your one wish.”
“There’s a sea witch?”
Her brow lowers. “Of course there’s a sea witch.”
“What’s the thing I must give in return to the sea witch?” “I don't know, it’s not important.”
“Oh, that’s not important to the story,” I tease.
