Bound to Blackwood by Sharon Lipman

en-suite slowly filled with steam and the smell of mint and tea-tree soap she favoured, she stared at herself in the mirror she'd replaced only that morning. She was thankful for the invading vapours gradually eliminating her face from view. She looked a bloody mess.
    Red tear-stains covered her cheeks, her normally vibrant midnight-blue eyes were dull and flat and she had dark circles under her eyes. She didn’t get as far as to look at her hair, but the vague bird nest silhouette she saw as she turned towards the shower was enough of an indication that it was doing a mighty fine job of complimenting her miserable looking face.
    As she got into the shower, the heat of the water stung her shoulders. She thought about turning it down, but the warmth that battered her aching joints was soothing. She just stood there, letting the water wash away the tension she didn’t realise she was carrying. She shampooed and conditioned her hair, twice, since it was so knotted, then grabbed a sponge and a good dollop of the minty soap and lathered up.
    She went slowly, enjoying the mixed sensation of minty-cool soap and steaming hot water. She bent down to massage her calves and made her way back up her body in slow, circular movements. As her hand swept over the tops of her thighs, she dipped the sponge between her legs.
    The tingly feeling grew more intense as the cool soap and hot water hit her more sensitive core. She lingered longer than she meant to, soft circular sweeps rubbing against her sweet spot. She leant her head back indulging in the feeling uncurling within her.
    Without warning, a vision of pure gold swept across her mind’s eye and she gasped. Behind her closed lids, she could see Thorn’s brilliant eyes drilling into her very soul. The vision prompted such a feeling she staggered on the wet tiles.
    The internal heat she already felt was suddenly an uncontainable inferno. Her blood raced around her body as if it were jet propelled, her breathing intensified. She scraped her now over-sensitive fangs across her lower lip and shuddered at the ecstasy of it. The wetness between her thighs changed, became slicker, as her own juices mixed with the water still cascading down her body.
    She arched into the spray and groaned as the jet hit her taut nipples. The sponge now discarded, she felt her fingers caressing between her legs and her body tightened further. Somehow, she knew she was feeling the beginnings of something overwhelming and her legs trembled under the effort of remaining upright.
    Her fingers felt slick as she moved them in and out, quickly and then slowly, rubbing inside and then against her sensitive nub as her arousal increased. A wave of pleasure burst over her in a skin-tingling, body-sweeping rush and still the image of Thorn’s eyes burned in her mind. As she neared her peak, the golden glow from his eyes seemed to radiate out from her entire body.
    Everything throbbed — her clit, her pussy, her elongated fangs — and begged for release. When it came, the orgasm was so complete it threatened to break her open, a golden fire reaching every part of her. The power of it drove something between a shout and a scream from her lips and for a moment, the world became a molten — gold wonder. Her breath hitched in a sob and her legs finally gave way as she slid breathlessly down the wall.
    She stayed on the floor so long that the hot water ran out. It was only when the water was absolutely freezing that she jolted upright. She was no stranger to sexual release but she had never experienced such intensity, such heat, even on her own.
    She often imagined what it would be like to be with Thorn, to feel his broad, powerful shoulders under her nails as he pounded into her. It was one of her most regular fantasies, especially when she was alone and in need of relief. What she had seen tonight was not his broad shoulders or even that perfect arse of his. It was just his eyes and a look of pure possession so strong that