𝕺nce the water ran clear, you noticed Lucius raring to move on. As soon as he ended the water spell, he conjured the next bottle, and his touches lost a bit of the tenderness they held before.
"Stand up," he demanded, helping you back to your feet as if he were in a rush. He turned you around by your shoulders.
"But…," you began meekly, craning your neck to look at him, "...What about you? Do you not want your hair washed, Sir?"
Malfoy scoffed.
"I don't know who you take me for, but my restraint and patience have their limitations, too. Being so close to you and your tempting vernal body… your pheromones constantly clouding my senses. My loins haven't known rest since I've bedded you earlier tonight…!"
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Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath, along with your words, got stuck in your throat.
"What-...! I-! I'm unsure if I can take you for a second time tonight, I-...!" you stuttered, your muscles tensing up again. He interrupted you by placing a finger on your lips, shushing you.
A mischievous look on his face, Lucius pulled out the black glass flacon from earlier. It had the same 'Art Nouveau'-style ornamentation decorating it.
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"Let me… WASH you…," he drawled suggestively, pouring some of the luscious pearly-shining soap into his hands.
This product had a less intense scent and smelled of chamomile, lavender, and oat milk.
"You know…," Malfoy rasped in your ear under his breath as he ran his slippery hands down your shoulders, "...too harshly perfumed products are prone to…—"
He slid his hands slowly down between your soft breasts, leaving a sudsy trail in their wake.
—"...they are prone to irritating the most delicate parts of us when used…"
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Lucius stilled his movement when his fingertips grazed your flushed clit. You gasped and couldn't help bucking your hips at his touch. Your body had taken on the bathwater's warmth and in comparison, the man's nimble fingers felt startlingly cold.
Lucius laughed to himself quietly, clearly amused and entertained by your reaction.
"It seems to me…—" he breathed, stepping closer to you and pressing his body to yours, —"...as though you could also use some indulgence and relief again…"
The tall wizard crowded you against the opposite wall, trapping you between his pale imposing body and the cold ceramic tiles. He was so close, you felt like it was becoming difficult to breathe.
