She relaxes completely, her lips parting. This is the Phoenix only I have ever seen. The one who can let herself feel and need without judgment or fear.
 
 Her hand sneaks back between our bodies to wrap around my cock. This is the Phoenix who will take what she wants. Her fingers explore more than stroke, and I love it.
 
 I switch the showerhead to pulse and flick my middle finger across her clit.
 
 "You need to know I'll always protect you. Claim you. You're mine—just as much as you're all of the Titans’. We protect what's ours."
 
 “The others don’t want me like this,” she says. Her brows scrunch and I see that doubt and pain start to surface again. Later we will deal with that, but not yet.
 
 First I need to chase away the demons dragging her away from me.
 
 I tap my fingers on her clit, making her jump. “They want you however they can get you. We all do. But they need you as deeply as I do. They need to take you, claim you, mark you, and own you.”
 
 “But—”
 
 I tap her clit again a little harder; my girl responds to a bit of pain. “No. You belong to all of us. This perfect body was made to serve us, to be worshiped by us, only us. You are ours.”
 
 She nods, eyes closed, chest rising in quick little pants. I want my mouth on her nipples, and soon. "Say it, Angel. I need to hear that you know."
 
 "I am yours. And the other Titans’. You protect what's yours." Her hips move, rising and falling helplessly seeking against the pulse of water. “It’s too much…please…”
 
 "This is not your fault," I say.
 
 Her head shakes, and her lips press together. I angle the spray more directly. She tries to close her legs, to wriggle away from the pulsating water. I hold her open, firm and gentle. "Say it."
 
 "It's—" Her voice breaks; she arches and thrashes.
 
 "Say it, and I'll reward you."
 
 "It's not my—" She pushes harder to pull away. I brace my feet, spread my thighs, keep her open for me.
 
 "Say it." Not a request any more.
 
 "It's not my fault. I didn't do this. It's not my fault," she cries, back bowing, breasts lifting, thighs trembling around me.
 
 There's nothing in this world—or any other—as beautiful as Phoenix when she comes for me. Her body goes bright and then boneless as heat spills over my hands.
 
 When she floats back down, I dial the water to a steady warmth, letting it run over her to calm her.
 
 "Storm?"
 
 "Yes, Angel." I kiss her shoulder, content to hold her while she comes down.
 
 Instead, she slips from my arms and stands in front of me, gloriously naked—pale-pink skin with a new gold cast from the yacht, the long lines of her stomach, the full weight of her breasts, the graceful curves of her hips. All of her, perfection.
 
 Even the neat thatch of pale blonde-red between her thighs makes my mouth water.
 
 "I want to hear you say it, too," she says, nudging my knees together. Tongue darting out to lick my bottom lip, I let her move me how she wants.
 
 "Say what?" My hands settle on her hips to steady her as she straddles my lap, hovering over my painfully hard cock.
 
 "Tell me it's not your fault. Not the girl on the table. Not the men who attacked me.”
 
 "I—” But it was my fault. I did that. We did that. She would have never been targeted if we didn’t need her more than the money and power we’ve been raised to crave like fiends.
 
 "It's not your fault," she says, reaching between us to wrap her hand around me, stealing my thoughts. "Say it for me. Tell me you know you were protecting me. They would've killed me. You saved me."
 
 "I—” She watches me with those fierce eyes, and I can't make the words come. I won't lie to her, not even with her hand moving up and down on my cock, making me ache in the best way.