The music switched songs, and I closed my eyes, listening to the soft piano play. I’d had the water fill the bath at a temperature just shy of boiling. It helped when my thoughts wandered to Marek, and I splashed my face with it. Now, it was a more comfortable warmth, and no longer helped me forget.

Marek was power, but it wasn’t raw. It was honed, curated, and entirely controlled. Everything about him, and his body, screamed powerful. Just the memory of being caged under him, feeling the ...