*Runze's POV*
The water in the deep marble tub is steaming, the scent of lavender and sandalwood rising thick in the enclosed space of the bathroom.
I lean back against Bael's chest, the hot water coming up to my shoulders, supporting the full weight of my body so the persistent ache in my lower back finally loosens its grip. Bael is sitting behind me in the water, his knees bent on either side of my hips, his large hands moving a wet, soapy cloth over my arms with steady, careful strokes.
He is being entirely too careful.
He has been like this since we woke up. Two hours ago, when his morning arousal had pressed against my thigh under the duvet, I had turned into his space and reached down, sliding my hand over his waist and lower, fingers brushing the hot length of him. He caught my wrist before I could wrap my hand around it properly, his thumb pressing into my pulse, his voice low and raspy against my ear: *Don't bite off more than you can chew, Runze.*
