Page 25 of A Forbidden Spring
Smile falling, I cup her face with my hands and search her eyes, the golden brown swirling with emotion. “Hey.”
“I’m fine,” she huffs but there’s no oomph behind it.
“I made dinner, but if you just need to sleep, we can do that.”
“Merrick, that’s not what this is.”
“I told you to let me take care of you tonight, and if you need me to curl myself around you and hold your tit while you sleep, that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
Her lips twitch as she slides her palms up my stomach. “Maybe a shower will help.”
“Am I invited?”
“I guess I’ll allow it,” she muses as I lean in to press my mouth to hers. She sighs into the kiss, and I can’t help the way my heart squeezes in my chest at the sound. We shouldn’t be this comfortable and I shouldn’t want to take care of her—not like I do in this moment.
Turning off the stove, I scoop her into my arms, carrying her to my room much the same way as the last time she was here.
With one exception.
The frenzy that was the first time I’d had her is gone, and in its place is a need to be near her rather than consume her. That thought should scare me but it doesn’t, and I don’t have time to figure out what that means.
When we’ve made it to my bathroom, I set her on the counter and close the door before turning the shower all the way to hot. The mixture of stone and glass makes the space seem masculine, the multiple showerheads almost decadent.
Grabbing the back of my shirt, I pull it over my head and drop it to the floor, not missing the way Wren’s eyes spark with interest as her gaze rakes over my bare chest.
“Your turn,” I tell her, my fingers already gripping the hem of her shirt as it slides up her body and over her breasts before I deposit it on the counter next to her.
Steam fills the bathroom, fogging the mirror as I release the clasp on her bra, her tits spilling out of the cups and into my waiting hands.
Leaning back, she lets me fondle her breasts as I lick my way into her mouth, the combination making her chest flush and her eyelids close by the time I pull away.
“Your restraint is admirable,” she teases as she shimmies out of her leggings, and my pants and boxers join her clothes on the floor.
“Purely selfish reasons, although you’re not much of a hellcat right now.” She huffs as I pull her under the spray, her moan audible as the water washes over her.
She’s gorgeous, wet and glistening as my dick comes fully to life at the view of her here in this space with me.
But my needs are secondary to her right now.
Grabbing my shampoo, I squirt some into my hand, and with her eyes still closed, I start massaging it into her scalp.
“Oh, wow.” The words are a hum of appreciation, her smile soft as her body sways. “This is nice.”
I don’t answer her—I can’t. The potent mix of possession and lust and something I’m not willing to acknowledge swirls in my veins as I rinse the suds from her hair and grab the loofah.
Wren lets me wash her, the action so incredibly intimate as I do this most basic task for her, to her,with her.
“Merrick?”
“Yeah?” I ask, her eyes still closed as her tongue peeks out to wet her lips. The hesitation has my blood pumping harder, my dick aching to slide between her folds. “Ask me.”
“I can’t stop thinking about your tongue on my pussy.”
“Here?”
“Please.”
Her nails drag down my arms and over my chest, and even though my knees aren’t made for kneeling on stone—or anything at this point—I’m already committed.
