Daenerys's fingers tightened around his shaft, the soap making every glide impossibly slick. Water streamed over them both, steam curling around their bodies, fogging the glass and mirror until the world reduced to just the two of them, the heat, the scent of sandalwood and her arousal mingling in the air.
Logan's hands found her hips, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just above her pelvis. He watched her work his cock, slow, deliberate strokes, her thumb circling the head each time she reached the tip, smearing pre-cum into the lather.
"Like this?" she asked, voice honeyed, her gaze locked on his.
"Exactly like that," he breathed, his fingers digging into her skin.
She dropped to her knees.
