Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, skin still warm, the faint scent of sex and her perfume clinging to him.
The room was dim, only the low bedside lamp painting gold across his shoulders and chest and the sharp cut of his hips. He looked up when the bathroom door opened.
Ariana stepped out naked, silver hair now dry and loose, falling over one shoulder. In her hand was a small vial of lube.
She didn't speak at first; she just walked to him slowly, hips swaying, the soft light catching on the curve of her waist and the swell of her ass.
She stopped between his knees, set the bottle on the mattress beside him, and brushed her fingers along his jaw.
"I cleaned myself… everywhere," she said, voice low, almost shy, but her eyes were steady. "I know you've wanted this for a long time."
Adrian's breath caught. His hands flexed on his thighs, hesitation flickering across his face.
"Aria… you don't have to—"
