Chapter 172

Adrian Kael

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, narrowing his eyes. "I can see that smile."

I widen my smile even more and stare at him, not hiding what I feel.

"Just thinking about how much I love you."

A corner of his lips turns up, forming that lopsided smile that completely undoes me.

"Yeah, I know," he responds naturally. "And I hope you keep on loving me. You chose to have me, and now that you do, you better not change your mind. If you do, I'll kill you myself."

I let out a light laugh, finding the threat sweeter than I should.

"I could never stop loving you, Magnus Hale."

I pause for a moment, playing with the tone of my voice.

"You know, sometimes I wonder... if this were a soap opera, do you think people would hate me for being like this? Crazy for you, completely insane, and far too cheesy for declaring myself all the time?"

He rolls his eyes.

"How should I know? This is real life. And, yeah, it’s cliché as hell. If even I think it’s cheesy, imagine someone hearing it all the time."

I make a pouty face, feigning offense.

"Don't be like that, love. You're spoiling me today."

"I am," he admits with a light sigh. "But I won't lie, these declarations of yours are pretty cliché..."

"But?" I provoke, tilting my head curiously.

He looks away, and a slight blush colors his face.

"But... I like hearing them," he grumbles, scratching the back of his neck. "Now enough of this embarrassing talk. To the shower, now. I’m giving you a bath."

I throw my head back and start laughing, finding the contrast between his sweetness and his grumpiness irresistible.

"Stop laughing, dammit!" he complains, crossing his arms, which only makes my laughter worse.

Still smiling, I stand up and stretch my body before moving closer. I hold his face tenderly, looking into his eyes.

"Magnus Hale... I love you. I love you, I adore you, I love you more than I can explain."

His face flushes, which only makes him more handsome. I lean in and kiss him slowly, a long, calm peck full of feeling.

"Now, come take care of me," I tease, smiling against his lips.

He huffs, trying to maintain his seriousness, but the smile that escapes gives him away completely.

He places the tray beside the bed and starts taking off his uniform. I can see him naked as many times as possible, but to me, he will always be a masterpiece sculpted by the hands of God himself—pure perfection in every detail.

Since I’m already without clothes, we head to the shower together. I turn the handle and let the hot water fall over my body, slowly streaming down my skin. Soon he approaches and enters too, the steam enveloping us both.

He takes the soap and begins to spread the foam over my body with an almost reverent delicacy. Every movement is calm, careful, and gentle. I close my eyes, letting myself be carried away by the sensation.

His touch slides down my waist, contours the curves of my hips, and reaches my glutes. Then, he kneels, washing my thighs with patience, passing the soap between my toes with an attention that undoes me from the inside.

My heart races. I never imagined I’d see Magnus like this—taking care of me, treating me with such tenderness. It was always the opposite: me taking care of him, spoiling him, and serving him. But now... now he is doing the same for me, and it makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time.

He stands up and stares at my face for a moment before carefully washing my skin, passing the soap over my chin and my cheeks until he reaches my forehead.

I step under the hot stream and let the water carry away the foam, feeling my entire body relax.

If I died right now, I’d die in peace.

"Now it’s my turn, my love," I say, taking the soap from his hands.

Magnus doesn't answer; he just watches me in silence, his gaze heavy and curious. I spread the foam over his broad shoulders, making slow, firm movements, like someone wanting to memorize every inch of skin under my hands.

I go down to his chest, feeling the heat radiate from his body. The water slides along with the soap, tracing paths between the defined muscles. I contour his abdomen, then turn to his back, washing every line, every mark, until I reach his glutes—a sight that always hypnotizes me.

I slide my hands up again, going up the spine until I reach the nape of his neck. My fingers move slowly, and I feel the hair on his skin stand up at the touch.

I lower myself, washing his thighs, his groin, and finally, his feet. I pass the soap between his toes with devotion, every gesture loaded with a tenderness that seems almost religious to me. Being on my knees before him... it’s so natural, so right, as if the world only made sense right there.

I look up and find his eyes watching me—intense, dark, and burning inside. I swallow hard against the groan that threatens to escape. It almost feels like I’m worshiping him, and maybe I am. He deserves it.

I kiss his knee, a simple gesture but full of meaning, before standing up again. I wash his neck, move up to his face, passing the soap with the utmost care, as if he were made of glass.

Magnus steps under the shower and lets the water run over his entire body, removing the foam. I stand still, watching him, hypnotized by the sight of his back covered in marks—hickeys, scratches—reminders of mine.

They are my works of art.

I approach slowly, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my chest against his back.

I kiss his shoulders, one at a time, then move downward, scattering slow kisses across the full expanse of his broad back. I feel his muscles shift beneath my lips, a hoarse sigh escaping his throat.

My hands slide over his firm chest, exploring every line, every curve, until they descend again toward his waist. I keep the kisses moving lower, tracing a wet path until I reach his glutes, where I kneel—my heart beating fast, dominated by the silent adoration I feel for him.

I spread his cheeks apart, and my breath hitches for a moment. His entrance is beautiful, almost hypnotic, a perfection that steals my breath away. The scent of the soap is still in the air, but that's not what I want. I want his scent—pure, warm, real.

I tilt my face, breathing deeply, letting that unique scent dominate me.

It’s intoxicating.

I press my lips to him, and his taste invades me—warm, salty, addictive. It’s something I can't describe, only feel. The softness of his skin, the savory taste... everything about him inebriates me.

I know I would never tire of this.

Of his taste.

I spread his glutes even wider, leaving him fully exposed for me to explore.

"Adrian…" His voice is breathless, a trigger for me to continue.

I slide my tongue slowly over his entrance, savoring the softness of his skin. He braces his hands against the wall and tilts his body forward, his broad shoulders tensing under the damp light. This new position gives me total access to every detail.