Xion stepped out of the bathroom. Steam trailed after him like a magical mist revealing the precious treasure.
The ribbon around the waist was also tied like a bow on a gift.
Indeed, when Darius stared up from his chair, he thought exactly that. My precious little treasure.
The crimson robe his baby wore swayed with each hesitant step. The fabric slipped off one delicate shoulder, teasing him with pale skin, before Xion hurriedly pulled it back up.
The silver-haired man watched with barely restrained desire. The muscles in his jaw tightened at that lovely pink dusting those pinchable cheeks.
The urge to pull that cloth entirely off was overwhelming Darius' already fragile sense of restraint. Only a tug and the satin would slide off that lithe frame, pooling at Xion's feet.
Earlier, when Darius had helped him in the bath, his mind had been focused on healing those delicate feet. He was too worried about the wounds and fatigue, but now… now there were no distractions.
