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Facing the wall as I run my hands over my body, checking for extra damage, I hear the door creak open. See Kal reach past me for the bottle of pomegranate shampoo I brought from home, watch him pour generously into his palm and then wring his hands together.
Seconds later, I feel them embed in my wet hair, working the shampoo into my scalp, massaging and kneading. As I find a cut on the inside of my thigh, my knees buckle and my hand slips from between my legs, brushing my lace-covered clit as I try to catch my balance.
Tension coils in my belly as the sudden touch mingles with the smoothness of his ministrations, and I bite back a moan just before it escapes my lips.
Frissons of heat crackle and sizzle beneath my skin, making my blood boil in a way that leaves me wanting more.
With him, I always want more.
He moves me so my head is directly under the water, rinsing with careful fingers.
“You did good, little one,” he murmurs, his voice so soft, I’m not even sure he actually says anything at first.
My hands come up, bracing against the black tile wall. “What?”
“Fending off Vincent. Not everyone in your shoes may have fared so well. You did good.”
My throat constricts with the warmth in his words, tightening as they caress their way over my skin like honey. Labored breaths stumble their way from my chest, and it feels like I’m hyperventilating as I chase that sensation, needing it to incinerate the foul memories.
Turning slowly, I deliberately hold my breath, not sure how he’ll react to the change in position. He’s close, just outside the spray, leaning in halfway to help.
Furrowing his brows as I tilt my chin up, he opens his mouth to say something, but the words seem to catch on his tongue when my hands flatten against the hard planes of his chest, sliding up around the collar of his shirt.
Exhaling long and slow, I shift forward, launching myself into his arms and yanking him down as, for the third time in our short marriage, I kiss him.
