And then he came back. A warm, damp cloth in his hand. A clean towel draped over his shoulder.
He knelt between my legs, lifting my hips with one hand, and shimmying my —his— boxers off with the other.
I instinctively went to cover myself, but he just looked up at me — steady and soft, like this wasn’t something shameful. “Let me,” he said again.
So… I let him.
He was quiet as he touched me. Gentle. He cleaned me with slow, patient strokes, careful not to press where I was sore. I couldn’t look away. His brow furrowed like he was focused on the most important thing in the world.
It was too much. I had to laugh. “Jesus, Ansel.”
“What?” His voice was amused, but he didn’t stop.
“You’resoridiculous.”
He glanced up. “Ridiculously in love with your pussy, yeah. So sue me.”
I laughed again, breathless and aching. “You don’t have to?—”
“Yes, I do,” he said, cutting me off with terrifying certainty. “You deserve this. You deserve to be taken care of.”
I felt the words like a punch to the chest.
“I don’t even know what to say to that,” I admitted.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, sitting back on his heels. “Just remember this next time you think about settling for anyone less.”
Howcouldthere be anyone else?
He handed me the towel, pressing a kiss to my knee. “You want water? Food? New underwear?”
My throat went tight again. “You trying to marry me, or…?”
“Don’t tempt me,” he said. And I didn’t know if he meant it as a joke — but his smile was too soft, too real, for me to laugh.
I pulled the towel over my chest, suddenly shy.
And Ansel leaned forward, resting his forehead against my bare thigh.
“You wrecked me,” he whispered. “And I’d still do it again tomorrow. Slower. Better. Until you never forget how good this gets to be.”
The house was quiet.
Not the awkward kind of quiet — not the kind that filled the space after bad sex or regret. This was afullsilence, like something sacred had happened, and now the world was letting me breathe through it.
He scooped me up like I was weightless, curling me against his chest, my head nestled under his chin. I didn’t ask where we were going — I knew. “Arms around my neck, pretty.” He murmured against my hair.
I obeyed without a thought. I… don’t know how he managed, but he kept one arm under my legs, and used his other to turn down the comforter on the bed. Warmth licked down my spine thinking of the sheerstrengthit must take.
“Be right back.” His breath washed over me, warm and inviting, as he wrapped me up in the blankets.
I curled under the covers, fresh towel-warmed shirt clinging to my skin.Hisshirt. It smelled like cedarwood and worn-in denim, like the curve of his neck when I’d tucked my face into it just an hour ago.
My body still hummed.
I hadn’t come down yet. Not really. There was a new softness in my bones, like being cared for had somehow rewired me in places I didn’t know were broken.
No one had ever done that. No one had ever…
