Page 102 of Major Penalty

“I love your light, Irene,” he whispers against my lips, his forehead pressed against mine. “Please don’t keep me in the dark again.”

Chapter twenty-two

~ARES~

I carry her in my arms like she might break. Her breath’s soft against my collarbone, her body boneless from everything I just pulled out of her. Everything I took, gave back, and then took again.

I glance over at the untouched dinner, still sitting by the pool. I’ll put it in the fridge later; right now, she’s all I care about.

I carry her through the house and into my bedroom. She clings to me like she doesn’t know where she ends and I begin.

Good.

That’s exactly where I want her.

I lay her down gently on the edge of my bed, brushing a strand of hair off her face.

She knows everything now. Every crack in me, every ugly piece. It’s all on the table. The ball’s in her court, and all I can do is wait and hope like hell she tosses it back.

I lean in, kiss her temple, and move quietly into my ensuite bathroom. It’s all warm marble, matte black fixtures, and the scent of cedarwood and soap lingering in the air. I turn the knob, letting the water fill the big tub.

I want to wash her in something better than guilt and sweat and everything we just burned through.

When I return, she’s still lying there, small and soft against the dark sheets.

“Can I undress you?” I ask quietly, crouching beside her.

Her eyes shoot open, wide and worried, her mouth parting.

“I can’t take any more,” she stammers, and I can’t stop the chuckle that slips out of me.

“Not for that,” I murmur. “For a bath.”

“Oh.” She exhales, some of the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Okay.”

I move slowly, peeling her clothes off her one piece at a time. Her body is flushed and marked from what I did to it. Now, I’m going to wash her and put her to bed.

When she’s bare and warm in my arms, I carry her into the bathroom and gradually lower her into the tub. She sinks into the water, wincing slightly as the heat hits her skin. Then she sighs, head falling back against the edge, eyes closing shut again.

I move behind the tub and kneel. The steam rises from the water, curling around her bare skin. She’s quiet, her eyes closed and head resting against the smooth edge.

I squeeze a dollop of body wash into my palms, rub it between my hands, and lay them on her shoulders. She lets out a breathy sigh as I work, massaging her muscles, kneading gently, lathering her in the scent I always use.

“It smells like you,” she murmurs as I continue my massage, and I smile behind her.

“Sit forward for me, little thing,” I whisper.

She obeys without hesitation, yet her movements are sluggish. I dip my hands into the water and then wet her hair, the strands sliding like silk through my fingers. I reach for the shampoo, rub it into my hands, and start working it into her scalp. She moans low under her breath.

“I’m sorry for not telling you,” she says suddenly, her voice small, hushed by the sound of water.

“I know.” I press a kiss to her shoulder.

I rinse the suds from her hair, letting the water run in soft rivers down her back. When I straighten up, about to move and grab a towel, her hand lifts and wraps around mine.

I look down, and she looks up, her honey-brown eyes hesitant.

“Get in with me,” she whispers.

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