Bad Boy Playground (h.s)

twenty

Positions

Soft lips on damp skin. Wandering hands. Two naked bodies glued together with steam and perspiration.

I've always loved a hot shower.

Warm water running over the muscles in his shoulders as my fingers follow suit tracing over the blank canvas.

Is it bad for me to want to tattoo my name on his back?

Tonight has been nothing less than explosive emotions. Everything from hearing what the doctor had to say to crying in each other's arms and then now holding each other in a steamy shower. I'm emotionally exhausted.

His strong arms wrap around my shoulders as mine hold onto his slim waist, my lips pressing against the droplets running down his smooth chest. Because of our height differences I'm level with his new scar and it breaks my heart to see the new and only imperfection on his body.

"Showering with you is my new favorite thing." Harry mutters into my drenched hair.

"Better than playing with your rubber ducky?" Teasingly I reference the little yellow duck that's sitting on the edge of the tub of this shower tub combo.

I can feel his fingers glide across the damp skin of my shoulder blades until they draw together on my collarbone and linger down to my breasts, making me almost regret my teasing because I know this can't escalate too far.

"Definitely better." He whispers as his palms give a little squeeze and his lips press against the shell of my ear.

"Don't get ahead of yourself baby, you know what the doctor said." Already starting to feel his dick get a little hard, I painfully have to pull away from him. "I'll let you soap me up though." Biting my lip between my teeth just to tease him further.

His eyes never fail to amaze me, turning from jade to almost black out of lust. I know this is killing him, having me so close, naked and soapy, yet not being able to touch me how he wants. What's that saying? So close yet so far away.

Without saying much my baby reaches behind me to grab his body wash off the built in shelf. He squeezes a decent amount into the palm of his hand and I catch a whiff of the scent that's so familiar.

Making sure to build the soap into a lather, he starts to rub the pine scent into my skin. Starting with my shoulders down to my calf's, he takes his time in bathing me, making sure to give quality attention to my breasts and ass.

"Under the water Peachy." He whispers placing another kiss to my hair, this being probably the tenth since he started to wash me.

Using his grip on my waist to guide me, he leads me under the stream of hot water to fully rinse the soap off of my skin. He hums softly as his hands run over my body and his lips stay close to my face, peppering little kisses here and there. Once I'm all cleaned up I push him back a bit so I can reach for his body wash and get my hands all over him.

His skin feels velvety under my touch, the little soap bubbles looking so innocent on his tatted chest. I can't help myself when I lean in and press a soft kiss to his new scar, wishing I could kiss it better but I know that it'll never go away.

"Do you know who did it?"

The question that's been floating around my head along with the doctors and probably the police soon enough.