“You’ve ruined me.” She whispered as she ran her fingers through his damp hair. They were fresh from the shower, dripping water all over one another and soaking the sheets. He’d laid her down on top of her towel and made rough love to her in the chill of the evening air that came in through the open windows of his bedroom. Her declaration was quiet and muttered into the space behind his ear. He didn’t respond, at least, not with words. In the cover of darkness she couldn’t see his smile, but she felt the way his lips moved against her neck, and his slight chuckle where his chest rested over hers. He'd ruined her, just like she'd always asked him to, and it was beautiful.