My breath catches in my throat, and my face burns from the inside out. He detects it somehow—the heat coming out of my mouth and creating steam in the air, his palm not as hot as my cheek. His voice rasps in my ear: “You’ve never been fucked there, have you?”
I pause; the heat in my face oppresses me. I manage to shake my head—an almost imperceptible motion, but it rubs against the trace of stubble on his chin, and I know he can feel it. His shower gel fills my nose, the scent of sandalwood invades my head. He fills me. And my gaze pulls away, finding something very interesting in the old piece of chewing gum on the floor. He leads me to a shallow alcove, pushing me against the tiled wall. The ceramic feels ice cold on my back, in stark contrast with the heat of my skin.
“I own you.” His eyes stare into mine, hard and sparking with lust. “You chose to meet me—you didn’t have to come; I’m your Master.