Page 87 of Reclaiming Home

“But it’s not the same,” he murmured as he tilted my head just so to get the suds out of my hair.

“No, it’s not.” I pulled him between my thighs and nipped at his flat stomach.

I might’ve been muscular and tattooed from neck to toes, but he was the opposite. Kye had miles of milky white skin, some muscle definition, but he was softer and in so many ways, more perfect than I could ever be.

“What?” he asked, smiling.

“I love you.”

He dipped his head to kiss me softly. “Love you too. Wanna wash my hair?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

We switched places, and I used the fancy shampoo and conditioner Rian had bought him. Apparently long hair needed different stuff and it was really good but also I was not to ask how much the bottles cost. So, I hadn’t.

The scent of something vaguely fruity and herbal clung to him just enough to be nice and not irritating to my senses.

“It’s funny how much more I smell fragrances now,” he said as I guided his head to rinse the conditioner out. “You definitely did something to myeverythingwhen you gave me this.”

He tilted his hand so that I could see the scar on his wrist.

I took his hand and pressed my mouth over the scar. It meant so much more now than it had that night. It had been a big moment, of course, but now the more human emotions had caught up.

I mouthed his wrist and reached my other hand to wrap around his half hard cock. I jerked him off slowly, gently sucking on the scar.

His head fell back against the wall, and he let out a broken little whimper. “That has no right to feel so good.”

I hadn’t expected him to react like that, so I smirked around his skin. I sucked harder, gnawed with my blunt teeth like Iwas trying to leave a hickey, and suddenly, with a long, almost startled sounding moan, he erupted in my hand.

“What the fuck?” he whined, then let out a confused little laugh.

I let go of his wrist, but kept pumping his cock until he stilled my hand.

“Well, I guess we now know that’s a new erogenous zone?” I felt very pleased with myself.

“I’d say….” His lazy, satiated smile was everything.

I grabbed my shower gel and washed myself while he recuperated a little.

He got up and chuckled. “I’m surprised my knees aren’t wobbly.”

Yeah, I definitely felt smug. He noticed and smacked my hip with the back of his hand. Then he groaned.

“Holy shit, that’s gonna stay for a couple of days.” He turned his hand so I could see the dark bruising that now decorated the area of his scar.

He hugged me from behind, sliding his hands over my skin, following the path of the washcloth I was using as if chasing the suds.

“Want a hand?” he asked, running a finger along my shaft.

I wasn’t fully hard and felt no urgency, so I shook my head. “Nah. I’m good. This was more of a mental thing for me.”

“Okay. Let me know if you want some later.” He kissed my shoulder, then reached for his shower gel and stole my washcloth.

Chapter Twenty

Kye

Rian apologized to all of us. The way he approached Max was what told me how sorry he was, exactly.

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