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He really is such a good kisser. This time he’s soft, at first. His tongue flicks against my lower lip, begging sweetly for entrance that I grant almost immediately. How could I ever tell him no? For anything?

As soon as I relax, Ronan pushes forward until he’s pinning me back against the shower wall. His knee presses between mine, pushing my thighs wider so he can sit between them. His other hand comes up as well, until he’s cradling my face between his palms like a delicate, cherished thing.

My heart twists in my chest at the way he touches me as if I might break. I’ve spent years and years convincing people I’m not soft, but right here, in the dark and the hot water, I find that I like it.

Someone yelps from the other side of the bathroom door and there’s a loud thump that has me stiffening, but Ronan only sighs against my mouth and draws me back into our kiss.

“Just Ansel and Adrien,” he grumbles. “They’ll be fine. They argue shit out all the time.” But he casts a quick glare towards the door before rolling his eyes and giving me his full attention once again.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks, one hand going to touch the graze on my ear. I move to show him my arm, which is the worst of the three wounds, and he fusses over it for a moment, his fingers tracing the edge of irritated skin without ever actually hurting me. The cut on my face gets the same treatment, and then he’s kissing me again.

But this time, he doesn’t stop with just that. Ronan crowds me into the wall and explores my body with the tips of his fingers. His touch is soft, almost feather-light against my skin, and when he gets to my hips he stops, then works his way back up. My breath catches in my throat, and I can’t help the way I writhe against the still-cold wall behind me. Especially when he skims the pads of his thumbs over my nipples, teasing them to stiffness, before he leans in to kiss me one more time.

He doesn’t stop, though. His mouth trails down my throat patiently, taking the same path as his left hand to wander across my shoulder and collarbone. Teeth scrape against me, pulling soft noises from my mouth, and it’s hard not to do something except submit to the teasing inspection.

But when Ronan’s hand tangles in my hair so he can pull my head back, I can’t hold back my noise of surprise and approval. In the next second, his mouth finds my nipple, his tongue teasing the stiffened peak and lapping over it like it’s his favorite thing in the world.

“Fuck, Ro,” I gasp, my hand flying up to grip his soaking hair. “Fuck. You can’t just–” My protest becomes a whimper when he bites down, but he lets go before the pain becomes anything other than a very welcome sensation.

“I can’t?” His grin turns sly, and he shifts forward to press my thighs wider around his knee.

His fingers trace my slit and I gasp, eyes flicking open from where I’d closed them, though I don’t know when. My mouth opens on a protest but Ronan only grins, his expression wickedly sharp, and before I can comment, he presses two fingers into me.

“Oh fuck, Ronan!” I yelp and let him push me back against the wall of the shower, my eyes going shut as he fingers me. “You’re–” My words break off again when his thumb brushes my clit, sending a wave of electricity through me.

“I missed you,” Ronan purrs, fingering me while he leans in to kiss my neck. “Let me take care of you, pretty girl. Let me take you apart on my fingers and get you clean.” The rough, rawness of his voice has me shuddering, has me arching for him. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let up while he murmurs in my ear, continuing with his praise and encouragement until finally–finally–I gasp and my whole body tenses around him.

Ronan fingers me through my orgasm greedily, and holds me in place with one hand on my throat. He kisses me when I open my mouth to gasp out my pleasure, swallowing the noises. The first thing I see when he pulls away and my eyes flick open, however, has me groaning and slumping back against the wall.

“Knew you’d taste good, pretty girl,” Ronan purrs. “Been fantasizing about this for years. Fuck, Ansel is gonna love this just as much. Gorgeous, darling girl.” He continues to lick and suck on his fingers, then lunges forward to sink his teeth into the side of my neck again.

This time I yelp, and the noises outside the room quiet down. Not that I have the time or the extra attention to focus on that. Ronan sucks a mark onto my skin, heat and pain blooming against my throat while I try not to make more noise than necessary.

For all the good it does.

Even though I’ve already washed my hair, Ronan does it again. He ignores my protests, ignores me telling him I’ve done it, and just gently bats my hands away.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmurs, holding me to him once he’s pulled me to my feet. “Just let me take care of you this once.” Not that Ronan gives me much of a choice. He runs his fingers through my hair once the conditioner has been washed out, and when I move to kiss him again, he grins slyly and pushes me back into the wall, wash cloth in hand that he drips soap onto.

“I’m taking care of you,” he reminds me wickedly. “Let it happen.”

“Yeah, I’m not so good at that.”

“Learn.” He nips my earlobe and I give a soft sound of disapproval, but with Ronan’s grip on my wrists holding me against the wall, I don’t have a choice.

I learn real fast how good it feels for him to take care of me. Especially when he fingers me all the way to another orgasm with his teeth buried in my neck, holding me like he plans to claim me as his, before finally the water starts to go cool.

“Fuck,” he sighs, turning and washing his own hair as I relearn how to breathe against the wall. My heartbeats in my ears, and I watch every line of water run down his back, wondering what it would feel like to have more than his fingers in me.

But I don’t get the chance to find out. Not in the shower, anyway. Within two minutes he’s scrubbed himself clean, and turns the water off before it can get any colder. He picks me up, setting me on the counter with a towel around me and another in my hair.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, holding the towel around me tightly as he stands between my knees. Fighting the urge to pull him closer, I satisfy myself with just staring at him instead. “Why do you want to take care of me? You saved my life. You don’t owe me–”

Ronan kisses me hard and absolutely filthily. I gasp as he pushes me back onto the counter, his hands going to my hips to pin me in place. “It’s not about owing you, Sable,” he tells me in a rough voice when he finally pulls back, panting and his pupils blown.

“Silly fucking girl–I want to take care of you. I want to make you feel good. I want to make sure you’re safe and happy and warm and…” He bites his lip, then says almost hesitantly, “Mine. And Ansel’s. And, if you want to fuck Adrien on the side then that’s okay too.”

I can’t help but snort, and I reach up to tangle my fingers in his hair to bring him back down to me for another kiss. Now I feel like the greedy one, but I won’t be apologizing for it. Not when his mouth is so soft and pliant against mine.