Julian didn't actually go for his tools. He stopped halfway to the door, his massive back to her, his muscles rippling under the damp fabric of his shirt. He could hear Elena’s soft, unsteady breathing behind him, the sound of her bare feet padding softly across the cold marble.
"You're still naked," he noted, glancing over his shoulder.
"You told me not to get dressed," Elena replied, her voice a playful whisper.
Julian turned fully, his gaze sweeping over her. She stood there, her breasts still glistening from the remnants of their encounter, her thighs slightly parted, the white fluid of his release still trickling slowly down her inner thigh. The sight made his c**k, which had only just begun to subside, twitch and harden once more.
"I did," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous
