I press the button at the bottom of the tub and watch as the water begins to drain. Slowly, the level drops around me. I twist the handle, adjusting the flow until the stream runs warm.
“Am I actually going to do this?” I whisper.
Yes. Yes, I am.
I shift my body under the running water until the stream hits and I gasp, my back arching. I pull away instinctively, then ease forward until the water finds me again.
It feels good. Almost too good.
My breathing grows uneven as I slip two fingers inside myself, the water kissing my clit with every tiny movement. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, letting my mind drift.
Jace’s mouth on me, tongue circling my clit, flicking in that way that always made my thighs shake. His fingers deep inside me, curling just right. His hands roam over my hips. My own hands in his dark hair as he looked up at me with?—
Light brown eyes.
His lip ring glints in my imagination as he drags it over the inside of my thigh, teasing, before his tongue presses against me…
“Luca…” I gasp as the orgasm crashes over me, pleasure rolling through me like a wave.
My body trembles as I pull my fingers out, moving away from the stream. I stare at my hand glistening under the bathroom light.
Well. That was unexpected.
I finish washing quickly under the shower spray and pull on soft clothes, but my mind won’t stop spinning. A part of me feels guilty… but another part doesn’t at all.
My feelings are a tangled ball of yarn—knotted, frayed, impossible to unwind. I don’t know where the beginning is or where it ends. I don’t even know where to start unraveling the mess.
I think I’m going to have to talk to Maeve about this. Maybe she can find one end of the knot, because right now, I’m hopelessly tangled in it.
29 SPIRALING
Itighten the straps on my gloves, feeling the stiffness in my shoulders and arms. It's been almost two months since the basement and every muscle still aches. I've been doing my stretches and light workouts, but I need more.
Luca is already waiting, hands on his hips, his expression part amused, part serious.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod, though the weight of my own body feels like a lie. “Yeah, let's start slow.”
“Good girl.” He smirks and shoots me a cheeky wink. “Short rounds. You tell me if it gets too much.”
The first drill is simple. Footwork, dodges, and blocks. I reminisce on the first training sessions I had over a year ago. I felt sturdy then.
Now I’m like a newborn foal, my legs wobble with every pivot. Luca moves beside me, correcting my stance with gentle touches. His fingers brush against mine as he adjusts my grip, and I feel warmth spreading in my belly.
“Careful,” he murmurs. “You're tipping your weight too far forward.”
I bite back a groan. “I know.”
“You're still weak,” he says bluntly, but I know there's no malice behindit. “Good thing you got a hunk like me around.” He flexes his muscles. I roll my eyes, smiling at his antics.
We move on to light sparring. Luca throws slow, controlled strikes toward me. I block and dodge, but quickly start to tire. My arms shake, my breath comes faster than I expect. A punch nearly gets past my guard, and he stops it with a firm hand on my forearm.
“Rest, breathe,” he orders softly.
I lean against him, my chest rising and falling, trying to slow my pulse. The heat of him against me is distracting, and my mind begins to wander. To the bath…
“Focus.” Luca snaps me back, “I know I'm dreamy, but don’t get too distracted.” He smiles.
