Bound

Chapter 40 - Synaesthesia

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Skylar

"Bound?" I ask him, confused. "What does that mean, Dmitri?"

He looks like he has seen a ghost or like someone has told him the gyms have all closed.

"Dmitri!" I shout, pulling him out of his stupor.

He has been sitting there staring at me without actually seeing me, a blank expression plastered on his face. He is freaking me out.

He finally really looks at me, awareness hitting me that my breasts are on full display as I lay back down.

"You can scent me?" he asks in disbelief.

"Not exactly..." I trail off, thinking about how I would explain this.

"I can see scents. Yours is a swirl of slate grey and midnight blue smoke. The colors that sandalwood and pine look like. There is also a unique iridescent pattern that keeps the scents together. No two peoples are the same. That's how I knew it was you in my dream before I saw you. Your scent has been caressing my skin for a decade in my dreams. The tingles I feel in them are the same as when you touch me, just more intense in my dream. You have been haunting me. Why? Why do I feel like this with you? I feel like I'm falling for you, Dmitri, and I've known you for what...just over a week?"

There is silence between us. The water is now lukewarm, and I haven't even washed. Not to mention the bubbles that once were, are now nearly non-existent, and I'm feeling a bit exposed.

I shiver. A movement that doesn't go unnoticed by Dmitri, who is sitting scrutinizing me.

As if reading my mind, he holds his hand out before saying, "Come, let's shower and get clean, then we can talk."

"You go first and don't look," I say, his hand dropping.

I know we have been in more intimate positions before, but I still feel shy and standing in front of him, in broad daylight, after the conversation we just had...it just feels awkward.

He gets out, and I avert my gaze, looking at the opposite wall instead. What is wrong with me? I'm not a teenager. I mentally slap myself. It's not like I haven't had a shower with a guy before. Lies. The most I have done is with this hulking god of a man.

Looking over, I see he is in the shower, back towards me, hands on the wall as the water pours over his body. I don't know how I will do this—lust courses through my veins. I squeeze my eyes shut, building up the courage to get up.

I take another look at Dmitri, making sure he isn't looking before I climb out of the bath. Don't be a baby, I tell myself as I walk towards the shower. As I get closer, I take in the mammoth of a man standing with his back toward me. His off-white hair is curtaining his face as he stands, now with one hand against the wall as the other wipes the water running a path down his forehead, nose, and finally dripping off his chin and nose. I wish I were that water.

His arm muscles flex and bulge with every slight movement. His back muscles are taut, every muscle showcased in clear, smooth skin. My eyes travel down to the crest of his ass. An ass that should surely be licensed as a deadly weapon. It's fucking amazing. Shapely and not an ounce of fat. His thighs are enormous and must be twice the size of mine, I think, looking down to compare. And it's all muscle, down to his ankles.