Vox: A FanFic/X-Reader

Chapter Five

"What do you want for breakfast?" he asks.

"I need a shower before I can think of food."

"Good idea. Come on then," he grabs my ankles and yanks me to the edge. I yelp and giggle as he grabs me around the waist and hauls me up. He wraps his arms around my waist and turns me, propping his head on my shoulder.

"Thank you for being fun. You're kind of addictive."

"I had the same thought a few minutes ago about you being addictive." He bites my neck and I lean back into him. "Walk with me or get tossed over my shoulder."

"Caveman." And I walk with his hands on my hips steering me through the suite.

"Fun either way."

The bath has multiple showerheads on one side and a bench in the center of the room. My toiletries are already lined up on the shelf. He unzips his bag and adds his.

I check the water temperature and walk under and turn around. Leaning my head back, I co-wash my hair and wash my face and body. When I reopen my eyes, he's holding up the wall watching me. I rinse off. "Come here, you," I tell him, holding out my hand.

He doesn't hesitate. I point at the bottles he brought in and say, "Which is shampoo?"

"Guess."

After smelling them, I flip the top on one. He shakes his head and takes it from my hand, reaching around me to put it back. He hands me another. Ideally, I want to wash his hair but he's tall and he's going to have to bend or—.

"Lift me up so I can reach your hair, caveman," I demand.

He reaches down and grabs my thighs, bouncing me up as he walks us to the wall for support. I wiggle against him and he asks, "You want down? Or you're distracted—"

"Distracted. You're distracting."

He leans his head back under the spray of water. I squeeze shampoo out into my palm and rub my hands together. The smell is intoxicating, especially when paired with the way he peers down at me. My palms press into his head, transferring the shampoo. My fingers massage into his scalp, rubbing the excess shampoo across his shoulders and chest. His head tips back and I help him rinse.

"Conditioner?"

He shakes his head.

"Want some."

He grins and repeats the gesture.

Wrapping my hands behind his neck, I pull him and press my lips to his twice. "You're killing me."

"You're not the one who has to let you down without impaling you on my dick again." The shadowed look in his eyes should come with a warning.

"Life is temporary. Fuck it when you can. Me, I mean. I'm life. Not that this is temporary I mean, not to me anyway. It can be, if you want. I just mean we're all going to die. Damn, that got dark! Not that I'm trying to put a ring on it either, 'cause that's not it. Oh, wait, cockrings. Ever tried those? I'm just digging a deeper hole with every word, so I'll shut up because—"

His mouth slams into mine. Our tongues fight for dominance. Teeth nip and bite. Lips slide and caress. One of my elbows is propped on his shoulder. The other hand slides against the column of his neck, tracing his collarbone, jaw, cheeks, and eyebrows. We come up for air. I suck his bottom lip into my mouth, letting it go with an audible pop.

"You going to wash my back?" he asks.

"Not just."

"Slide around to my hip," he laughs and I do. He slides me down his hip and thigh so slowly my nails dig into his upper arms. "Good girl."

"Never."

He plucks up a different bottle and hands it to me.

"Bodywash?" I ask.

"Face." The fact he uses more than one product for his whole body impresses me. I rub it in over a day or so's growth and rinse it off, trailing my fingers over his lips. They're soft, but his face is scratchy from his whiskers growing in. I like it.

"Distracted?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Trade?" He offers me a different bottle.

"Bodywash?"

"Yes."

"Fun!" I laugh and he tips my chin up. "Hmm?"

"Maybe I should do this part," he suggests.

"No way."

"You'll get sidetracked."

"I won't."

"And if you do?"

"You can spank me," I giggle.

"Trouble."

"The best kind." I stay on task, but I taunt and tease, dragging my nails down his chest and kneading muscles. Slow and sensual, I lather and rinse until there's only one area left. As I press the bottle into his hand, I stretch onto my toes and kiss his jaw.

Across the bath, fluffy robes hang. I slide into one and take one to hang outside the shower for him. Moments later, my hair is wrapped up and I walk out.

See. I can behave—if I say I will. One thing I'm not is a liar.

"What do you want for breakfast?" I ask, hesitating at the door.