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“I understand.”
Kim lifts one of my hands and scrubs at the dirt caked around my claws. “Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I wanted to say thank you, though.” She pauses and looks up at me. “For protecting me, even when I didn’t realize I needed protecting.”
It is not what I expected to hear. “I…understand?”
Her fingers move lightly over mine, slick and wet, and even though I am trying to think pure thoughts, my cock surges at her touch. “I know you were acting to save me. Thank you. And I just want you to know I’m not mad about the whole “you killing your master” thing. If someone would have handed me a knife and opportunity, I would have killed mine, too. I very much understand that.” Her mouth tightens, and then she shakes her head and goes back to scrubbing me. She drops my hand and switches to the other. “I’m not mad.”
“You…are not mad,” I echo, because her words say this, but her brisk actions are not the gentle, loving Kim of yesterday.
“I’m not mad, but I am conflicted,” she clarifies, scrubbing my other arm. The hot water pours down her skin, making it gleam, and I want nothing more than to tease one of those pink nipples with my tongue and feel her squirm. My cock is rising painfully despite the long battle of last night, and Kim notices this, too. She clears her throat and gestures. “Turn, please.”
I turn. I suspect I am turning to appease her sensibilities. It is not as if my back is covered in dirt. But I turn because Kim has asked, and I will do anything for her.
“While I’m not mad at you,” Kim continues. “I feel we’re back to square one. I don’t trust you anymore. It’s going to take some time to get back to where we were before.” Her hands glide down my back slowly, practically a caress.
I want to point out that when she was terrified of me, she did not touch me, and she certainly did not stand naked in a shower with me and slide her wet, soft hands all over my backside. Kim is hurt, I realize, but she is wrong. We are not back to “square one.” But I do not point this out, because then she will stop touching me. “What would you have me do?”
“Earn my trust again,” she says simply as she washes me. “Prove to me that I can trust you again.” She pauses, and her voice grows soft. “I want to trust you, Nassakth. I just…I’m scared. What I need most is someone to rely on, and if that’s not you…”
I turn and face her, ignoring the throb of my cock. Her head is bent and she looks so sad, so alone. I take her hands in mine. “I am sorry. They were big secrets and I did not know how to tell them without making you run away. I need to realize I am no longer alone, too.”
Kim squeezes my hands. “I think we can come back from this.”
“I know we can,” I tell her confidently. Already she trusts me far more than she thinks. I simply have to woo her again.
She nods and steps out of the shower. I watch her go, full of longing. “You can wash the rest of you.”
“You will not scrub my cock for me?” I cannot help but tease. “What if it is terribly dirty?”
“Then I’m going to wonder what the hell you were doing out in that field,” Kim says tartly.
I bark a laugh, and because she is still looking at me, I stroke a soapy hand up and down my length. It feels good, but what feels better is that Kim’s gaze locks onto that motion and her lips part. “I was not digging with my cock, if that is what you are asking.” I repeat the motion, twisting my hand as I reach the tip to work the crown, and she blushes and turns away.
So much for that. I bite back a sigh. I am patient, though. I will not give up.
“I need you to do a few things for me, Nassakth,” Kim says, her back to me.
“Anything. You know this.”
“If I make food you don’t like, I need you to tell me. Don’t just eat it because I worked on it. We’re from different species. I’ll do the same for you.”
“I understand.”
“And I think I want you to sleep in another room for a few days. Not because I’m angry, but just because it helps me think to have space.”
“I understand this as well.” Sort of. But if Kim needs space, I will give her space.
“Also, I want you to wear clothes around that bounty hunter.”
My brows furrow. This seems an odd request. I slide my soapy hands over my stomach. “Gladiators are often naked. It is so the enemy has nothing to hold onto—”
