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What seemed the most astonishing was that he’d released his seed three times. He smiled. Was anything more masculine than a solid ejaculation? But to deliver three in a row?
Hot damn, life was good.
Fuck ‘good’; life was incredible.
“Thank you, Olivia.”
“Ditto.”
“Am I heavy on you?”
“Nope, but it helps to be part shifter; I’m stronger than if I were just human.”
“I love lying here like this.”
“Me, too.”
He saw her fingers pulling at the sheet and covered her hand with his own, lacing his fingers with hers.
Without warning, his eyes started to burn and his chest felt like his rib-cage was held in a powerful vise. He realized he hadn’t done this with a woman since his wife had died. Sure, he’d had sex, but this had felt more like … making love.
He hadn’t wanted to get involved again. Hell, he’d made a commitment to stay away from any kind of serious relationship so long as the Invictus existed.
Now here was Olivia, a blood rose, and she was in his tree house bed.
He sighed heavily.
Zane, what’s wrong? I don’t know if it’s a blood rose thing, or if it’s just us, but I’m feeling like you’re in some kind of pain?
He drew out of her because, yeah, he was hurting. “I’ll be right back.” He went into the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel. He’d felt the gush as he’d withdrawn from her body.
He returned and wiped her inner thighs then planted the towel between her legs. Even in that strange position, with her feet on the floor and her upper body lying flat, she seemed so comfortable in her own skin. Very shifter.
She rolled and scooted, holding the towel in place, until she was lying on a pillow near the headboard. The scene was so homey that once more his throat felt like he was being strangled.
He moved to the bottom of the bed and pulled up the covers. “You have to be worn to the bone.”
“Mmm. Guess I am.” He tucked the quilt around her and she grabbed his arm. “You don’t want to talk?”
He met her gaze and swallowed hard. “No.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
He shook his head briskly. “No, Sweet Goddess, no. You were perfect. You were amazing. It’s … other shit.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He watched her eyelids droop, loving that she hadn’t pressured him to spill his guts. “Sleep now.”
“I will.”
He jerked his thumb in the direction of the bathroom. “I’m going to shower up.”
She nodded, but already her eyes were closed as she adjusted the pillow beneath her head and punched it a couple of times.
He returned to the bathroom and flipped on all three showerheads. But as soon as he stepped beneath the stream, his head bent and water flowing down his long hair, tears started and wouldn’t stop.
For reasons he couldn’t explain, his thoughts had turned to Emily. His wife. Dead five years because he couldn’t protect her.
