Eliška — Four Ways I Was Undone

Eliška — Part IV

Obey. Ache. Bloom.

The Witness

She nodded, breath catching again—not from arousal this time, but from something like anticipation.

We half-stumbled, half-pulled each other into the ensuite, laughing softly when our knees wobbled. I pressed her back to the wall while I reached past to turn on the water; she kissed me for no reason except she couldn’t not.

Steam swallowed the room almost instantly, turning light into something molten. It rose fast—thick, heavy, swallowing the mirror and turning the light into something molten. The water scalded deliciously against our skin when we stepped inside, and we both gasped at the heat.

Her body slid against mine, all slick curves and long limbs and hungry kisses that reignited heat we hadn’t even fully come down from.

Water pounded on our shoulders, our backs, dripping down our stomachs. It made everything feel more intense—touch, breath, sound—like our nerves were exposed.

She pressed me gently against the tile, her hands on my hips, her mouth finding my neck. I tilted my head to let her in, one hand braced against the wall, the other buried in her wet curls.

“God, you’re…” She kissed my throat, my collarbone, the place just below my ear that made my knees buckle. “…addictive.”

The water made her lips hotter, somehow. Softer. And every time she kissed me there I felt my body soften, melt, sway.

She slid her thigh between mine again and I gasped, my hips tipping forward instinctively. The heat of her skin, the slickness from both the water and my own arousal—it was almost too much.

“Careful,” I whispered against her mouth. “I’m not steady.”

“Good,” she breathed. “I don’t want you steady.”

My laugh dissolved into a moan as she rocked her thigh upwards, slow, intentional, drawing a sound from me that echoed off the tiles.

The steam built around us until breathing felt like sipping warm, perfumed air. My vision blurred at the edges; my body felt heavy and light at the same time, sinking deeper into sensation.

“Hold on,” I murmured, clutching at her shoulders as the heat overwhelmed me.

“Oh—I am,” she whispered, kissing me again. “I’ve got you.”

Except—she didn’t.

Not fully.

My body wavered, legs shaking, breath stuttering. I tried to brace myself, palm sliding helplessly against wet tile. We were about to fall into a writhing heap and I didn’t care.

But that’s when I felt it.

Hands. His hands. Large. Steady. Warm.

Oh my… I know those hands so well. The hands that hold me every night. It was Rob.

Bracing my hips from behind.

Holding my weight like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I froze—only for a second—because I hadn’t realised he was there.

Eliška’s eyes flicked to my shoulder, then down, widening with shock and something else—something molten.

We both turned our heads slowly.

Rob stood behind me—soaked, shirt clinging to his chest, hair dripping into his eyes. He looked like sin and salvation combined, his expression calm, amused, hungry, deeply satisfied.

He had been holding me up.

The entire time.

A slow grin spread across his lips.

“Hi.”

My breath escaped in a laugh, head dropping back to his shoulder as relief and heat crashed through me.

“Hi,” I murmured, leaning into him, letting him take my full weight.

Eliška stared for a second—then her lips parted around a laugh, breathless and incredulous.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “You’ve been… here? This whole time?”

He shrugged lightly, hands steady on my hips. “You two looked like you were about to fall. Thought I’d help.”

Eliška blinked once, chest rising and falling, eyes sliding slowly over him, then back to me—something electric shifting between us.

“Well,” she said softly, almost reverently. “Fuck.”

He smiled—slow, knowing, wicked but gentle.

“Don’t mind me.”

She made that breathy little giggle again—the one I was starting to crave—and shook her head.

“Oh…” she purred. “I don’t.”

Rob moved closer, his body pressing against my back, anchoring me fully. I felt the heat of him, the way his breath hit my shoulder, the quiet pride in how he held me—not possessive, not claiming—just… present.

Always present.

Eliška watched the way I leaned into him, the way his hands gripped my hips, the way my breath hitched.

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“That… is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

The three of us stood there—steam, water, breath, heat—knowing something had shifted. Something intimate, primal, unspoken.

And when the steam finally began to thin and our breathing slowed, we stepped out of the shower together, dripping and dizzy, skin flushed, bodies humming.

She looked at both of us with that big, bright, impossible smile—the goddess one.

And I knew:

even if it was only one night, it was already buried deep in my bones.

We stepped out of the shower dripping and laughing, steam trailing from our skin like smoke. Eliška reached for a towel with shaking hands—her legs visibly unsteady—and I couldn’t help smiling at the way her cheeks flushed when she noticed me noticing.

“Stop,” she whispered, embarrassed and delighted at once.

I wrapped my towel around her shoulders instead and kissed the tip of her nose.

“I like seeing what I do to you.”

Her eyes fluttered in this soft, disbelieving way that made warmth pulse low in my belly.

She brushed a wet curl from my forehead.

“What you do to me should be illegal.”

Rob let out a breathy laugh behind us—quiet, warm. The kind he only ever makes when he’s deeply, deeply content. We moved together back into the bedroom, a tangle of towels and damp hair and afterglow.

Eliška collapsed face-first onto the bed with a groan.

“Oh my god,” she mumbled into the pillow. “I’m dead. You killed me.”

I sat beside her, smoothing her hair back from her neck. “You’re fine.”

She turned her head, eyes half-lidded and still shining.

“I’ve never come that hard in my life.”

The honesty of it punched a soft ache of pride through my chest.

Rob sat on the other side of the bed, one hand tracing lazy circles along my spine. The three of us drifted into a warm pile of limbs, breath syncing slowly, silence stretching comfortably.

Eliška reached for my hand—instinctively, tenderly—and laced her fingers through mine. She looked at me like a best friend and a lover and a co-conspirator all at once.

“You’re…” she began, then trailed off.

A smile spread across her face—big, bright, goddess-like.

She squeezed my hand instead.

“You.”

I squeezed back. “You too.”

It was simple.

Perfect.

Honest in a way sex rarely is.

Eventually, people filtered out of the house, voices fading into the warm summer night. Doors closed. Lights dimmed. The Pleasure Palace exhaled after hours of energy and heat.

When the last guest was gone, I sank down beside Rob on the bed, my body deliciously aching in places I didn’t know could ache. He pulled me in with that quiet gravity he carries, fingers brushing damp curls off my shoulder.

He pressed a slow kiss to my temple.

“That,” he murmured, voice low and certain, “was the sexiest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I believed him.

Not because of the hallway full of men.

Not because of the spectacle.

Not because of the mirrored angles or the intensity.

But because when he said it, he wasn’t talking about the visuals.

He was talking about me.

The way I had taken her hand.

The way I had chosen her.

The way I had allowed myself to be desired by a woman with a hunger that matched mine.

The way I stepped into a version of myself I’d always suspected was there—quiet, powerful, feminine and feral in equal measure.

That night, something shifted. A part of me unfurled like it had been waiting for permission to breathe.

The hunger I’d ignored—buried—finally had a taste of exactly what it wanted.

This one didn’t.

It simply waited—

and when it returned, it felt like it had never left.

Eliška.

— End Part IV —

Obey. Ache. Bloom.