Page 78 of Until You Break

“Yes, but also because you’re mine, Aria,” I continue. “And that means it’s my fucking job to take care of you. Whether I’m making you scream or picking up the pieces after… that’s all on me.”

Her lips part slightly, and for a moment, she looks like she wants to argue, like she wants to challenge the weight of my words. But then she smiles again, softer this time, and leans her head back against the tub.

“I like that,” she murmurs, her eyes closing. “That I’m yours.”

“Damn right, you are,” I mutter, dipping the cloth into the water again and wringing it out before running it down her leg. “And don’t you fucking forget it.”

She lets out a soft laugh, and I smirk, shaking my head as I trail the cloth over her ankle, then back up her other leg. Her body is soft, warm, and marked by me in all the ways I need it to be.

Seeing her like this—relaxed, smiling, completely mine—it does something to me I can’t quite put into words.

“You’re so bossy,” she teases, her voice lighter now, and I snort, shaking my head as I toss the cloth into the water and lean forward.

“You fucking love it,” I say, smirking as I press a kiss to her shoulder, my stubble scraping against her skin.

“Maybe,” she says, her tone playful, but the flush on her cheeks gives her away.

I reach for the bottle of shampoo, squirting a bit into my palm before lathering it up. “Lean forward, baby,” I say, and she obeys without question, her head tilting as I run my fingers through her hair, working the suds into her scalp.

She hums softly, her eyes closed again, and I can’t help but watch her, the way she leans into my touch, the way she trustsme even after everything. “You know,” she murmurs after a moment, “you’re not what I expected.”

I raise an eyebrow, my fingers stilling for a fraction of a second before continuing their path through her hair. “Yeah? And what did you expect?”

She smiles again, that faint, teasing curve of her lips. “I don’t know. More rough edges, maybe. Less… this.”

I let out a low chuckle, rinsing her hair with a jug of water. “Oh, baby, I’ve got plenty of rough edges,” I say, my tone laced with amusement. “You just bring out something else in me. Something no one else gets.”

She turns her head slightly, peeking up at me through damp lashes. “Something good?”

“Something yours,” I correct, my voice dropping an octave. “Don’t get it twisted. This isn’t me being good. This is me taking care of what’s mine. There’s a difference.”

Her cheeks flush, and she doesn’t argue. Instead, she leans back into the tub, her body sinking deeper into the water as I finish rinsing her hair.

“Come on,” I murmur, standing and reaching for a towel. “Let’s get you out of here before you turn into a prune.”

She opens her eyes, watching me with a soft smile as I hold the towel out for her. “You gonna carry me, too?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Damn right, I am,” I say, grinning as I scoop her up, water dripping from her skin as I wrap the towel around her. “You can barely fucking stand after the night we’ve had.”

Her cheeks flush, and she buries her face in my chest, letting out a soft groan. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re mine,” I say simply, smirking as I carry her out of the bathroom and toward the bed.

By the time I lay her down, she’s half-asleep, her body sinking into the sheets as I pull the blankets over her. I press a kiss to herforehead, my hand brushing over her hair, and for a moment, I just watch her.

She blinks up at me, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. The faintest smile curves her lips, and her hand reaches out weakly to brush against my chest. Her touch is featherlight, but it sends a shock straight through me.

Her lips part, her voice is soft and barely above a whisper. “I love you, Dominic.”

My chest tightens, her words cutting through me like a blade. They’re so simple, so quiet, yet they carry a weight that feels almost unbearable. She’s staring at me like she’s carved open her soul and handed it to me on a platter.

Vulnerable. Unflinching. Honest.

For a moment, I can’t breathe. The words are right there, clawing their way up my throat, but I don’t know if I deserve to say them back. Not after everything I’ve done. Not after everything I’ve made her into.

But she’s already drifting off, her hand slipping from my chest as her eyes flutter closed, and the soft sound of her breathing fills the room. My hand moves almost on its own, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face as I watch her sleep.

“I love you, too,” I murmur, my voice low, the words meant only for her. The admission feels raw, like tearing stitches out of a wound, but I don’t fight it. I let it bleed.

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