Hunger and Restraint

CASSIA

The raw heat in his eyes pinned me against the porcelain. Droplets of hot water dripped from the ends of my wet hair, trailing down my neck and pooling between my bare breasts. His large hands stayed clamped over my wet shoulders, the calloused skin of his palms burning hotter than the steam filling the room. He held me upright, yet his grip felt less like an anchor and more like a brand.