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We’ve definitely fucked.
“Yeah, we have,” he confirms, replying to the comment in my head. I’m sure it was easy enough to figure out what I was thinking by the expression on my face.
I lift the sheet and peer down. Yup, definitely naked. I squint. Annnd I see dried blood on not one, but two thighs. I drop the sheet and let out a sigh.
“Told you.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“You mad?”
I touch the scratches on his cheek in apology. He takes my fingers and kisses the tips. I wiggle my butt a little as I consider his question. There’s a twinge between my legs, but then I notice my nipples have hardened, showing themselves off proudly. I snatch my hand back and cross my arms over them.
His hand falls to my thigh, caressing me gently. “No need to hide those beauties. I always enjoy the show.”
My face goes red, and I turn away from him, groaning. I didn’t think I’d feel so bashful the morning after. I’m not usually self-conscious about anything, much less my body. “Not helpful.”
He squeezes my thigh to get my attention. I turn back to him to face him. His expression is serious. “How are you feeling? Does it hurt? Are you regretting it?” Marku smirks. “Should I brace for a fight this morning?”
So many words out of his mouth so early in the morning. How does he wake up and come to without a sip of coffee crossing his lips first?
“Not a morning person.”
You can say that again.
He looks at me, his face grave. “Say something, Crina.”
I clear my throat. “It’s not you. I’m not a morning person.”
Satisfied with my answer, he drops down beside me on the bed and gently tugs at the bedsheet. I grip it tighter against my chest. “What are you doing?”
“Shoot me, but I want to see you again.”
I let out an irritated huff even though I’m preening inside. My hair’s a hot mess. My face must look awful from crying last night and then waking up from the sleep of the dead. “Your mother could walk in at any moment…”
“She knows about my insomnia. She never comes downstairs on a weekend morning.” He tugs again. “Plus, I locked the door.”
Satisfied, I reluctantly release the sheet. He gives it a little yank and then whips it off me. I loosen my arms, letting my tits peek out. He cups one breast and begins to distractedly play with my nipple as his attention skates lower down. I fight a moan.
Smoothly, casually, he pushes my thighs apart.
“Hmmm…”
That’s all he says.
Not sure what that means, but he rolls off the bed and stands up. I drink in the sight of his glorious body. It’s not the first time I’ve seen it, of course, but it’s the first time I’ve seen his morning wood, standing tall and proud. It’s the first time I’ve seen it painted in my blood. He turns, giving me an eyeful of the dragon spanning his back. My gaze drops to his firm buttocks as he walks into the bathroom. Damn, my husband is sexy.
Moments later, he’s back on the bed, sliding between my thighs, bending my knees, and pushing them apart, staring intently as he gingerly washes me with a warm, moist washcloth.
I’m not sure what I’d expected first thing in the morning, but this was definitely not it. I didn’t expect him to take care of me this intimately. I’m taken off guard enough that I don’t resist him. Plus, it’s the morning, dammit.
I hiss as he presses the cloth deeper.
His head tips up. “Sorry, baby, I promise to kiss it better soon.”
That brings another wave of heat to my cheeks.
“Shy.” His lip twitches. “Not what I expected.”
