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"It's ready," I say, the heat from the steamy water enveloping us as I help Cyn up, and ease her onto the ledge of the bath.
She reaches for the hem of her t-shirt, then winces at the pain from her bruised ribs, and just for the briefest of moments I see her slip away from me, the pain triggering more memories.
"Look at me, Cyn," I say, unable to hide the desperation in my voice.
I can't let her leave, not yet,not ever. Her mouth parts and her eyes refocus at the sound of my voice and she looks at me with trembling lips as I crouch down in front of her, resting my hands on either side of her hips.
"I'm going to remove your clothes, if you're okay with that?"
She nods, blinking at me. "Okay," she rasps.
Reaching for her feet, I remove the thick woollen socks Carrick dressed her in this morning to keep her warm. Her toes curl and flex at my touch, but she doesn't flinch away from me as I place them back on the floor and gently rub my palms over the top of her feet, needing contact.
"Can you lift your hips for me a little so I can remove your pyjama bottoms?" I ask.
She tries but her arms tremble like a newborn foal.
“That’s okay. It’ll take time to build your strength. Here, let me.”
Getting to my feet, I slide one arm around her back and lift her enough so that I grab the hem of her waistband and gently tug both her pyjama bottoms and her knickers down, my fingertips burning as though a live wire connects us. She lets out a plaintiff cry, the movement most likely aggravating her injuries, extinguishing my desire as quickly as it appeared.
"Let me settle you back down," I say, leaving the material around her thighs whilst I lower her back onto the edge of the bath. She lets out a long, shaky breath, watching me as I drop back onto my knees before her. “Okay?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
"Good girl," I murmur, forcing myself not to look at the apex of her thighs and the soft thatch of curly hair covering her pussy.
Gently, I pull off her pyjama bottoms and knickers the rest of the way, my knuckles grazing over her bare thighs and calves, my touch sending a rash of goosebumps across her skin. Easing her feet out of the material, I discard her clothes and find myself staring at the fading bruises scattered across her thighs. Swallowing the burning anger rising up my throat, it takes me a full minute before I'm calm enough to touch her again.
"Your shirt next, okay?" I say, my chest hitting her knees as my fingertips hover over the top button. "Okay?" I repeat, needing to make sure I have her consent, knowing that it's important for her recovery after Soren stole her choices from her so brutally. She nods, biting on her bottom lip as I reach up and undo each button slowly, one by one. The material parts, revealing the curve of her breasts. I swallow hard, jerking my eyes up to meet hers, ignoring how aroused I am. How fucking wrong it is to want her so badly when she’s so vulnerable like this.
"Will you look at me?" she croaks, tears pooling in her eyes.
“I am,” I reply, pinning her gaze with mine.
“No. I mean, my body.”
“Cyn, I–”
“Am I that revolting to you?” she asks, a tremor in her smoky voice that burns me with its heat.
“No. God, no!” I say, shaking my head. “That’s not how I feel when I look at you.”
“Then how do you feel?”
I swallow hard, my gaze dropping to her body as I slide my fingers under her shirt, easing the material off her shoulders, the yellowish-green splotches still marking her beautiful skin. A sudden rush of anger and guilt tightens my chest as I discard the shirt at her feet.
“Lorcan?” she insists, clearing her throat. “How do you feel when you look at me?”
“Angry,” I bite out. “What happened to you makes me so fucking angry, Cyn.”
Even after the bruises disappear I know that the memory of her injuries will remain a constant reminder that we almost lost her, that we we’re too fucking arrogant when it came to her safety. We assumed that because we're the infamous Deana-dhe no one in their right mind would try to steal her from us. We were wrong, and we all paid for our arrogance. Cyn most of all.
“What else?”
“Guilt.” My shoulders sag with the weight of it. “Fuck, we thought we were so damn untouchable. We truly believed that no one would try and take you from us. We were wrong.”
“You always did think you were above everyone else,” she says, a hint of a smile in her voice that almost has me smothering her in a hug through sheer relief.
