"Well, I don't mind being watched," you said with a smirk, only adding to the fire that already burned inside of Ghost, "and the bathroom is big enough for the two of us."
The steam from the shower fogged up the spacious bathroom as Ghost leaned against the sink, his hands gripping the cold ceramic in an attempt to ground himself. The frosted glass of the shower combined with the steam made only the silhouette of your figure visible, but that didn't stop Ghost's eyes from roaming all over it as you proceeded to shower as if he wasn't standing just a few feet away from you.
You liked that he didn't join you and that he tried so hard to keep his cool. It meant that this little game between you two could go on for much longer, depending on how well he could control himself, and that alone was sending shivers of arousal through your whole body.
You made sure to take your time in the shower, putting on a bit of a show for him. You looked so tempting, your skin was just waiting for him to touch it and mark it as his.
The silence that followed after you turned off the shower made Ghost focus back on the situation—on the damn stupid situation that he had gotten himself into. You, like the princes you were, just held your arm out of the shower, drops of water gliding down on your skin that got a bit of a tan after your day at the pool.
"Towel, please," you purred, even though it was more of an order. And a bit of a test. You wanted to see how much ordering around he would accept before he snapped. Because making him snap would be fun.
A low growl left his throat at hearing your words. You were playing with fire, and it was only a matter of time until you'd burn him alive. He wanted to say that he was a bodyguard and not your maid, but nonetheless, he handed you the towel, seeing that it had your initials stitched onto it, of course.
"Thank you," you cooed as you took the towel out of his hand, your fingers grazing his just ever so slightly. You wrapped the big towel around your bare body before you stepped out of the shower, walking past him with a devilish smirk on your lips. By now, it was already pretty late. You were tired, tipsy from the wine, your body radiating heat because you had been lounging in the sun the whole day. Ghost already began making his way out of your room as you walked over to him.
"Sleep well, hope you have some nice dreams," you said with a smirk, looking up at him through your long eyelashes, your hand lingering on his arm just a second longer than necessary. Damn, he was really muscular, you thought to yourself before you pulled away, heading back to your bed.
"Sleep well," was all that he could manage to say, his low and grumbly voice filled with need. Your hand on his arm wasn't making the situation better, his mind was already filled with the things he wanted to do to you, and damn were those thoughts loud and explicit.
The thoughts of pushing you onto the bed, kissing every inch of your body, making you scream his name as he took you; thoughts of you on your knees, your pretty lips wrapped around his cock—thoughts that he would try to silence with a glass of whiskey and a cold shower.
You chuckled to yourself as you snuggled up in your bed. He was a tough nut to crack; this would be fun. The past bodyguards were so easy to manipulate, it was almost boring. But Ghost? He was different.
He tried resisting you, and so far he was successful with it, and that made it even more tempting for you. You were already thinking about the ways you could tease him. After a few minutes, you heard the shower turn on in his room, which was down the hallway, almost next to yours. The house was big, and since your father wanted you to be under observation all the time, the bodyguards always got a room in the house.
Your father had contemplated changing that after you treated them like in-house dessert delivery. But Ghost had made it clear to him that he had no interest in touching you, and something about Ghost's demeanor had reassured your father that he meant it.
Ghost let the cool water hit him, his body aching from the pent-up arousal of the last few hours. The thoughts about you weren't leaving his head; maybe if he got it out of his system, he would feel better. He thought of touching your soft skin, how it would feel if he kissed you, and the moan he would hear if he bit down softly on your neck. God, how much he wanted to make you scream, to make you beg , feeling your body pressed against his.
He leaned forward, his head resting against the cold tiles of the shower, his hand slowly sliding down his body, fingers wrapping around his cock that was already painfully hard, just from thinking about you.
He took a few deep breaths, tried calming himself down. This wasn't his first rodeo; he could—no, he had to stay strong.
But the images of you and your body in that shower were still so vivid that it didn't take him long to finish, his cum running down the drain along with a part of his self-respect, a visible reminder of your little victory over him.
