Page 37 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

I'm okay.

I'm… actually fucking okay.

"We should probably wash up again," Ivy says with a soft laugh against Thane, her voice still rough from screaming. "Before we use all the hot water in the house."

I pull back with a reluctant sigh, my softening cock slipping free. She makes a soft sound at the loss and turns to nuzzle against my hand, coaxing me to caress her cheek as I blink blearily down at her, still not fully understanding why or how any of this just happened.

Thane reaches for the body wash first.

"Let me," he says, pouring some into his palm.

His hands move slowly over Ivy's body, starting at her shoulders, working down her arms, then her breasts, his soaped fingers sliding over the soft mounds and the peaks of her nipples.

"That feels nice," she murmurs, leaning into his touch.

Thane's response is a low rumble.

"Your turn," he says to me, offering the bottle. But his hands don't leave her body. They settle on her back as she turns to face me, rubbing soapy circles into her skin while I pour the washing gel into my scarred palms.

I'm clumsy compared to Thane's confident touches, and I almost drop the whole fucking bottle in my sudden nervousness. We move around her like we're performing some kind of ritual, worshiping at an altar we don't deserve to touch.

But she's letting us anyway.

The water runs cold just as we finish rinsing the soap and shampoo from Ivy. She lets out a yelping laugh, grabbing blindly in the dark for the knobs as freezing water pelts us. I reach for it and turn it off, immediately relieved by the clear evidence she hasn't been able to see my face this entire time.

And stressed.

Stressed, because that means I don't know if she's going to regret it when the lights come back on.

"Fuck," Thane mutters, stumbling out of the shower and fumbling in the darkness. His hand connects with the towel rack and slides down it, sending towels cascading to the floor with muffled thumps. "Where's the fucking light?"

The warning growl rips out of me before I can stop it.

"Okay, okay," Thane says quickly. "Dark's fine. Dark is good. Dark is great. I'll just... navigate by sound. Like a fucking bat."

He's stumbling around, muttering under his breath about stubbed toes and why the fuck does my bathroom have so many sharp corners.

I grab a towel from the top of the pile where Thane knocked them all onto the floor and hand it to Ivy.

"Thanks," she says softly

My jaw muscles twitch like I'd smile if I could. There's a phantom ache through tissue that isn't there anymore, ghost lips pulling at ghost cheeks.

My brain still remembers how to smile even if my face can't.

I try not to think about it before I puke and grab another towel, pressing it into Thane's groping hand before he gropes me.

"Thanks, brother," he says, relief clear in his voice. "You can see in this shit?"

I grunt an affirmative.

"Of course you can," he mutters, with fondness, for some reason.

Ivy starts drying herself off, and I watch the towel move over her skin in the darkness.

So beautiful.

So perfect.