Page 103 of Ruthless Sin
Then he stills.
I don’t speak.
Neither does he.
He’s quiet for a long moment.
Then he shifts.
Lifts me off him carefully.
He slides out. The wet between my legs is his come and mine.
“Stay here,” he says quietly.
He gets up.
He crosses to the bathroom. Naked. The scars on his back visible in the lamplight. Three of them. I still don’t know where they came from.
The water runs.
He comes back with a warm washcloth.
I go still.
He kneels beside the bed.
“Can I?” he asks.
No one has ever.
I nod.
He’s gentle. So gentle. He cleans between my legs with the warm cloth. Wipes away the mess we made. The wet. The come. He takes his time. His hands don’t rush. His face doesn’t change.
When he’s done, he goes back to the bathroom. The water runs again. He comes back empty-handed.
He gets back into bed.
Pulls me against his side. My head on his chest. His right arm around my shoulders. His left hand spread flat on my stomach.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
“Da,” I whisper. Yes
He kisses the top of my head.
His hand stays where it is.
I hold onto him.
I let him hold me back.
His breath is slowing.
Mine is slow.
The window is cracked. The cicadas are at their late-night pitch.
