Page 117 of Forget Me Not

As soon as I feel like I can walk, I force myself off her and go to the bathroom. I cut the water on in the tub and pour in whatever her bubbly shit is on the ledge to let it suds up. When I get back to the bedroom, she’s watching me with a closed expression on her face.

Fuck, I wish I could peer inside that pretty little head and see what she’s thinking.

That was intense. For both of us, but especially her.

Without a word, I scoop her up and hold her to my chest. Her hair’s a tangled mess, her lips are swollen, and her skin is flushed, but she looks so damned beautiful, I forget what I want to say to her.

“Where are you taking me?”

She looks up at me with those big ocean eyes and I can’t fucking think straight. I wasn’t lying when I told her she holds all the power here. The last four days have been fucking hell, denying us both because I needed her to see she’s more than just sex. If not for me, then for the next asshole, though, I have to say, the thought of anyone else touching her lights a fire in my blood.

Fuck, I hope I wasn’t too rough with her.

Gently, I set her to her feet and grab a washcloth, wetting it in the water of the tub’s faucet. She watches me when I kneel down in front of her and clean her, wincing when the cloth touches her skin.

Leaning forward, I press a kiss to the red marks on her hips where my hands were.

“Talk to me, little bird,” I murmur against her skin. Carefully, I spin her around and kiss the swell of her ass where it’s bright red from my hand. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

She sucks in a breath and I stand, looking at her over the top of her head in the mirror. She looks scared, almost, but not of me.

“I . . .” she starts, stammering. “I think I liked that.”

I clench my jaw shut, spinning her around to face me. Gently, I place a finger under her chin and lift her face to look at me.

“Tell me what’s going through that pretty little head.”

Her brow furrows and absentmindedly, she traces the line of my abdomen with her finger.

“I liked it. A lot. More than I thought I would,” she admits.

“And?” I probe, desperate to know what the fuck she’s feeling.

Finally, she graces me with a soft smile.

“I’m okay. Maybe I liked that too much. What does that say about me? Am I fucked up?”

I breathe a sigh of relief and take her face in my hands.

“Little bird, if you’re fucked up, I may as well be a damn lunatic.”

She blushes, her cheeks warming under my palm, and holds back a grin.

“Maybe we can do it again?”

I chuckle, taking her hand and pulling her toward the tub.

“Might have to be gentle tomorrow.” I step into the old clawfoot tub and hold her hand to help her in. “You’ll be pretty sore.”

I sink down into the water, cutting the tap off, and pull her down between my legs. She comes willingly, though she winces when her skin hits the heat of the water. I try not to read into how much I like seeing my marks on her skin. How much I like that she’s branded with my presence as much as she is on mine, but it’s inevitable. We did that because she liked it. Not because I was angry. Not because I felt like she really needed to be punished.

I get the feeling any pain Nova has felt before my hand has been given without her consent. The thought makes my blood boil, even if I’m powerless to change it.

I wash her hair, taking care to massage her scalp and detangle it with a large comb after. The whole time I’m working on her, she moans and sighs lazily, both sounds going straight to my aching cock and reminding me of how fucking good she felt when I was buried inside her.

After her hair, I move on to her body, washing her as softly as I can and even going as far as to massage her shoulders to loosen out the kinks.

“Little bird,” I chuckle, my cock hardening against her back as if I didn’t just put it through the endurance test of its life. “You’ve got to stop moaning.”

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