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“I know. But it’s fun.” My grin widens as the apples of her cheeks heat. “Don’t worry, little flower. I’ll only use it when you’re being particularly bratty.”
“I’m not bratty!” She huffs, stomping her foot as if to prove my point. My gaze narrows as I stalk toward her, and I don’t miss the way her throat bobs at the look in my eye.
“You wanna try that again, brat?” I growl, throwing her over my shoulder and stomping toward the bathroom. Her body shakes with a giggle, which only adds to the violence flooding my veins. “You think it’s funny to disobey me, Lillith?”
At my tone, she freezes. “Uh… no?”
“It doesn’t sound like you’re too sure,” I say, my tone a contradiction to the care I take while placing her in the tub. “Does my toy need some correction?”
Her face lights at the promise, and it takes everything in me not to take her over my knee. As much as she’d enjoy the distraction right now, I know it’s not what she needs after the night she just had. My little flower is anything but delicate—there’s never been a doubt in my mind about that, and the way she defended herself tonight further proves that—but anyone would be shaken by what happened at the club, and unfortunately, she’s no exception.
Wordlessly, I strip and hop into the tub, standing over her to shield her from the freezing stream as I turn on the shower. It beats down on my head and shoulders, turning a bright shade of red as it carries the sins of tonight down the drain.
As soon as the water warms, I step aside, allowing Lillith full access. She winces as the droplets hit the severed skin on her palm, and I crouch to inspect the wound.
“I don’t think it’s going to need stitches,” I murmur, turning her wrist in my palm as I gauge the thickness of the cut. “It’ll hurt like a bitch for a few days, and there will be a scar, but it looks like it’s going to be okay.”
“I know.” I look up at her smile in surprise, and that’s when it hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m so fucking stupid. She’s a literal doctor, so she knows whether it needs stitches more than a dumb bastard like me.
“I’m so sorry. I was so worried, I forgot that—”
“It’s okay. I thought it was cute.” She giggles, and the sound makes my chest swell. God, I wish she would do that more often.
“Will you let me make up for it?” I pull her palm to my lips, making sure not to press too hard.
“Depends.” Her grin is wicked. “What did you have in mind?”
“Breakfast in bed for the next month? A thousand orgasms? An island? Name your price.”
Her brow shoots up. “A thousand orgasms? Don’t you think that’s a tad unattainable?”
“Lillith, if I have to strap you to the bench downstairs for the next three years, I’ll do it.” I grab the bar of soap and massage it into her palm. “Nothing is unattainable when it comes to you. I’d burn this whole fucking city down if you needed me to.”
“You were right, you are always morbid.” Her lip twitches with a smile as I massage the lilac-scented soap up her arms. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I’m not so fragile that I can’t bathe myself.”
I stop, locking eyes with her. “I don’t think you’re fragile, Lillith. Quite the opposite.”
“But you’re always saying that you have to protect me. If you thought I was strong, then…”
“My sweet little flower,” I whisper, reaching up to cup her cheek. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But just because you’re capable of taking care of yourself doesn’t mean you have to. You’ve been living your entire life for others; giving everything you are, and then what’s left after that, as well. You deserve to be taken care of, too.”
A tear cuts a line down her cheek, and I swipe it away before crushing my mouth to hers. The kiss takes all the breath from my lungs, and it’s all I can do not to lose myself in her. I know the second I do, nothing of me will be left. She’ll possess me, body, mind, and soul. As much as I abhor giving up control, I’ll gladly do it for her.
When I pull back, the tenderness in her gaze makes my chest expand.
“Turn around?” she asks innocently. “I want to get a look at your shoulder.”
At her mention, the area prickles. I’m about to refuse, but the thought of that tender look in her eyes dying has me spinning faster than I can blink. I close my eyes as her fingertips skim the inflamed skin around the stab wound, prodding and inspecting the severity.
“What’s the prognosis, doc? Am I gonna make it?” She swats my arm, and a chuckle rumbles in my chest. “We really need to work on your bedside manner,” I tease.
“Hush. My bedside manner is killer.” She coughs. “Not literally, of course.”
“Sure hope not. You’ll be doing my stitches pretty soon.” I grit my teeth as she rubs soap in and around the wound. It doesn’t hurt in the slightest, but the lightning shock from her touch is driving me a little mad. Every time she touches me, I have to have her. It’s an insatiable, unstoppable drive to be inside her, to make her scream my name until it’s the only word ringing in that beautiful mind.
The fact she’s so fucking brilliant only makes it hotter watching her turn into a drooling, mumbling mess on my cock.
“Fuck me,” I groan, pushing those images from my mind so my dick will chill the fuck out.
