Their hands jerked away from his balls, water splashing over the stone edge of the tub as they scrambled back against his chest, their eyes wide and suddenly, violently awake.
The water finished its work.
The liquid shifted into skin, the transparency bleeding into the stark, vibrant cascade of red hair that floated like ink spilled on the surface. A woman. Fully formed, submerged to her shoulders, her head positioned precisely between his thighs.
She was looking up.
Her eyes met Mira's through the thin veil of steam, even as her mouth remained entirely occupied, her cheeks hollowing with the deep, practiced suction of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing.
Mira stopped breathing.
The flat, stunned, world-breaking quality of recognition hit her like a physical blow. The face. The hair. The specific, mocking curve of those eyes.
It was the woman.
