Steam curled lazily from the shower as El-Kharis reached in, his touch gentle yet commanding as he wrapped a thick, soft towel around Esteria's body. The warmth of his hands seeped through the fabric, his movements deliberate but tender, like he was caring for something fragile yet powerful. Esteria's skin tingled beneath the towel, her heartbeat quickening—not from fear but from the unfamiliar closeness they now shared.
His touch was slow, almost reverent, as he carefully dried her, beginning at her shoulders and moving with practiced grace down her back. His fingers brushed over her neck, tracing the curve of her collarbone as if committing it to memory. Each pass of the towel was thoughtful, as if he were ensuring not a single drop of moisture remained. There was a quiet intimacy in the air, thick and undeniable, as the soft fabric glided over her arms, her waist, her legs.
