SSS-Ranked Surgeon In Another World: The Healer Is Actually OP!

Chapter 239: Beneath The Steam (R-18)

Bruce stepped forward then, unable to stay apart any longer.

He took the sponge from her hand without asking, poured more soap, and began to wash her back in long, sweeping strokes.

Sophie let her head fall forward, a soft sigh escaping her lips. His hands were larger, firmer, but no less gentle, tracing the line of her spine, the slope of her shoulders, the delicate wings of her shoulder blades.

When he reached the base of her back, he paused, then let the sponge drift lower, slow and reverent.

They moved together like that, her guiding the water, him guiding the sponge, until every trace of soap was gone and only warm, clean skin remained.

The air between them felt charged now, quiet but humming, like the moment before thunder.

Sophie turned off the water. Silence settled, broken only by their breathing and the soft drip from the showerhead. She reached for one of the thick, heated towels waiting on the rack, but instead of wrapping it around herself, she opened it wide and drew Bruce into it first, enveloping him, drying him with slow, careful strokes.

Only when he was dry did she let him take the towel and return the favor, his hands moving over her skin with the same lingering care, tracing every curve as though memorizing her all over again.

When they were both dry, Sophie took his hand. Her fingers laced through his, warm and sure. She looked up at him, eyes soft, lips curved in a small, knowing smile that held all the promise of what came next.

“Come,” she said quietly, voice low and full of affection. “The water’s still hot.”

She led him the few steps to the enormous cedar tub, steam still rising in lazy curls from its surface, the scent of wood and warmth enveloping them both.

She stepped in first, the water lapping gently at her calves, her thighs, her waist as she sank down with a soft, contented sigh. Then she turned, extending her hand back to him, that same smile deepening.

Bruce took her hand and stepped into the tub after her, the hot water welcoming him like an embrace he hadn’t realized he’d been craving.

He lowered himself slowly, reclining against the smooth cedar wall, letting the heat seep into every muscle. Even with his near-impossible tolerance for extremes, the warmth felt perfect, deep, soothing, alive.

It wrapped around him, loosening knots he hadn’t noticed were there, and he let out a low, quiet breath as the water rose to his chest.

Sophie watched him settle, her eyes soft and knowing. Then she eased in beside him, moving with that effortless grace that always stole his attention. She turned slightly, pressing back against him until her body fit perfectly along his, her rounded, perfect ass nestling right against his groin.

The contact was deliberate, intimate, and Bruce felt himself harden almost instantly, the heat of the water and the softness of her skin amplifying everything.

She leaned into him, resting her head on his broad chest with a soft, contented exhale. Delicate lavender petals drifted across the surface of the water, she’d scattered them earlier when she was preparing the bath, their fragrance rising with the steam, sweet and calming.

Her fingers trailed idly through the floating blooms, sending gentle ripples outward, but Bruce knew her attention wasn’t really on the flowers.

His gaze drifted over her, tracing the way the water lapped at her skin, the subtle curves visible just beneath the surface, her slim waist, the swell of her hips, the graceful line of her back. He couldn’t help himself. One hand rose slowly, palm settling over the full, soft weight of her breast.

His touch was gentle at first, exploratory, thumb brushing in slow circles around her areola until the peak tightened under his attention. Then he leaned in, lips pressing warm and lingering against the curve of her neck.

Sophie let out a quiet, breathy moan, the sound vibrating against his chest. It was encouragement enough.

She shifted then, turning in the water to face him fully, her movements sending small waves across the tub.

Eyes locked on his, dark and filled with quiet certainty, she rose up slightly and straddled him, knees settling on either side of his hips. His cock, already rigid, pressed hot and heavy against her, and the contact drew a low rumble from deep in his throat.

Sophie leaned forward, one hand sliding up his chest to cup his jaw, and brought her lips to his.

The kiss began slow, almost reverent, soft presses, gentle exploration, the faint taste of lavender and steam between them.

But it deepened quickly, inevitably. Her mouth opened under his, warm and inviting, and Bruce answered with a quiet hunger, one hand settling at the small of her back to pull her closer.

Their tongues met, tentative at first, then surer, sliding together in a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. She tilted her head, deepening the angle, and the kiss turned fuller, richer, slow, drugging pulls that left them both breathless.

As the heat built between them, Sophie reached for his hand, the one still resting at her waist, and guided it back to her breast.

She pressed his palm more firmly against her, encouraging the slow knead of his fingers, then covered his hand with her own, helping him caress her.

Together they shaped and teased, thumb and forefinger rolling her nipple gently until she gasped into his mouth.

The kiss grew hungrier then, more urgent, lips sliding, breaths mingling, small sounds escaping them both as the steam curled thicker around them, turning the air hazy and dreamlike.

When they finally broke apart, it was only far enough to breathe. Sophie’s eyes were heavy-lidded, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and glistening.

She lifted a hand, brushing a strand of wet black silk from her face, tucking it behind her ear with a slow, deliberate motion that felt almost coy.

Then her gaze drifted downward, through the rippling water, to where his cock stood thick and straining between them, veins prominent, the head flushed dark with need.