He'd caught her like this a few times. It was the subject of furious masturbation. Towel like some simple dress, face wet and shining. Her hair touched by the water too, some of it in ringlets. Roan would be impressive, imposing, eclipsing the frame of the door, and she let him know as much with her fright-wide eyes. How vulnerable she looked, cowering back in the tiled space. He felt hungry again for what she'd treated him too, not too many hours ago. He followed and closed the door for intimacy. There was no one in their life that would come this early, uninvited.<br/><br/>"Why do you look at me like that?" he tried to sound hurt but he was relishing in what she was emoting. Scared angel in her post-wash dress. Closer, like all monsters want to be, until his chest was her world. He made her look up at him by hooking her chin with one finger. His angel, his little girl. "You left without saying good bye." he said and wrapped his arms around her. His appreciation could be felt through the threadcount, pressing against her. She still smelled mostly like yesterday. She'd not gone under the showerhead. He was grateful for that.<br/><br/>A small step back let him pull the cover from her body, and he sighed in familiarity. How disapointing, that she'd already healed so much. "Did you at least miss me?" he asked. Perhaps his mere presence and the underlying threat he'd become awakened something in her. She certainly behaved as though he had the deepest effect. He cupped her cunt once more, as though to determine the quality of her. If she had dew there for him he'd let her see it in the stark lighting in here. And if she didn't he'd feign some heartbreak with a sigh, while truly being disappointed. His cock would stay heavy and swinging, all the same, hoping for reason to stand right up.<br/><br/>"Turn on the shower, Iris." he commanded and stepped back. With his arms crossed over his nudity, and his limb ever rising for every little morsel her dismay fed him, she could probably guess that the next thing would be intimate. "Or the tub. Whatever you want." he'd wanted to clean himself with her before, but thought it'd be too affectionate. That didn't seem like a problem, anymore. He did feel closer to her, now that he'd made her heartbeat stop. There are few things more binding than sharing death, even if it's just one.<br/><br/>When she turned to do his bidding, he'd easily push his palm hard against the back of her head to toss her forward. It could either have her trip into the tub, bruised-up or unscathed, but on the bottom of the enamel anyway, or it could thump her skull on some edge. It didn't really warrant any worry, did it? She'd been his bedroom toy. She should embrace the thought of being one for the bathroom, too. This place was perfect for her. It was clean and blood washed right off. He wondered if it was lazy, to try her in here too often. What if he could elicit her frustrated wrath again?