Then her other hand settles against my thigh, gentle at first, before slowly sliding over tense muscle as if she’s learning the places where the day has left its marks.
My forehead drops against the wet tile.
My eyes close.
The world narrows.
Steam.
Water.
Amelia.
The careful way she gives me something I didn’t know how to ask for.
No words pass between us.
None are needed.
Every touch is careful.
Every breath is reverent.
Even though she’s swallowing my cock, she doesn’t take from me.
She gives.
And I, who have spent days carrying the weight of everyone else, can do nothing but stand beneath the water and let her.
Let her soothe the rage.
Let her quiet the ghosts.
Let her remind me that I’m not only theDon.
Not only the man with blood on his hands and enemies at his gates.
Not only the shield standing between my family and whatever darkness is coming for us.
I’m also hers.
Here… Now… Completely.
My hand tightens in her hair for one brief second before I force myself to loosen my grip. Even undone, even shaking apart beneath her tenderness, I will not take control of this from her.
This is her gift.
Her choice.
Her way of telling me she sees me.
Not the title.
Not the empire.
Me.
The man beneath all of it who came home too tired to climb into bed beside her because he was afraid the war inside him would follow.
