Lorian carefully cleaned his delicate, slender elf body, the warm water cascading down his skin. Every movement was deliberate, ensuring that he was spotless, soft, and ready. He couldn't stop thinking about Henry—about the way the man's strong, muscular body would soon press against his own, about the heated passion that would follow.
His heart raced in anticipation as he rinsed his hair, the steam from the shower surrounding him like a gentle fog. Lorian's thoughts drifted to the way Henry had looked at him earlier, his gaze filled with desire, and the potion that Henry had shown him. He knew what was coming. Tonight would be just like the others—intense, powerful, and consuming. But it was exactly what Lorian wanted.
