Page 10 of Inked Athena

“Great. While I run a bath, you can eat.” I slide the end table in front of her and place the broth there.

She stares at it and then at me until it becomes clear I’m not moving another step until she takes a bite. She rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the way her lashes flutter closed as she spoons the broth into her mouth.

She swallows and a soft moan slips out.

I turn and leave before she can see exactly what that little sound does to me.

Not that it matters much. Five minutes later, I carefully help her limp into the bathroom and pull the threadbare t-shirt she’s wearing over her head.

Fresh scrapes and bruises mark her skin, goosebumps rippling down her chest and arms.

But she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I swallow down the burning desire rising in me—now is absolutely not the time—and begin to peel away her bandages.

Her lacerations are already beginning to close, but the sight of the mottled skin blending into the silvery scars on her wrists bothers me more than it should.

I’ve seen men gutted and bleeding out at my feet. I’ve done the gutting more times than I can count.

But it can’t be Nova. I won’t let it be. Ever again.

Nova eyes the high sides of the tub and then glances back nervously at me. “I don’t think I can— It’s high.”

Without a word, I bend and lift her naked body into my arms. She’s too thin and shivering, but as I lower her into the warm water, she groans.

A dreamy smile slips across her face, and I’m in danger of crawling into the tub with her.

“Better?” I growl through clenched teeth.

She draws her fingers over the surface of the water. “Much.”

I try not to stare at the curve of her breasts as I ladle water over her back and shoulders. Nor when I lather my hands with bar soap and begin cleaning her in slow, gentle circles.

She lolls her head back against the lip of the tub. “God, that feels good.”

I say nothing, because fuck knows nothing I have to say will be appropriate for where she is, where we are, for what’s happened between us and what might still happen in the future.

Instead, I take my time washing her. Because I want to be careful. Because I don’t want to hurt her.

It has nothing to do with the ache pressing against the seam of my pants or the way she sighs as I soap and rinse her chest and her stomach.

When my hand slips deeper into the water, her legs part in what can only be an invitation.

I’m nowhere near strong enough to refuse.

Nova’s eyes stay closed as my hand curls over the center of her once and then again. When I circle a finger over her, her lips part on a sigh.

It’s the first time she’s looked relaxed in days, and I want to give her more. Everything.

I keep my gaze fixed on her face as I touch and stroke her beneath the water. Her hips begin rising to meet me. Her brows pinch together and small whimpers slip between her lips. All of it gives me some sick kind of pleasure I can’t name. It satisfies some deep part of me that I never knew existed.

It’s not the kind of gratification I find in work or sex—it’s a selfless kind of joy I never would’ve thought a soulless fucker like me could be capable of.

But when Nova stiffens and cries out, her body pulsing around the press of my fingers, I don’t have to keep a grip on the beast in my chest at all.

It’s already content watching her get off.

Somehow, taking care of her is enough.

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