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I keep my face tucked into the neck of my mate. Trusting him to take care of me.
Trusting him to get me safely home.
Chapter Twelve
Elijah
Saylor clings to my neck as I walk into the house and straight to the bathroom. I have to balance her to turn on the shower, fearing she will fall apart if I try to put her down. It’s not easy but I somehow get my shirt off her body and my pants off. I try not to react to seeing her beautiful body.
I take us both under the water and stand still. I run my hand down her hair and back, hoping the motion soothes her enough to let me clean her. The water runs red, the blood washing away.
“Baby, can you stand?” She twitches. A minute later, she eases her legs down.
Her chest is plastered to mine, her hands curled under her head resting on me. I grab the soap and clean everything I can reach without disturbing her. I hum softly. I have no idea what the song is and it doesn’t matter.
I am insanely proud of her. She confronted her abusers and kept her cool. Well…until she shredded the one. Funny, I’m just as proud of that moment. We are animals at our core. We aren’thumans. Of course, there are plenty of evil humans. Shifters live by their own set of rules. We protect our own at all costs. He asked for the consequences when he brought up her mom.
Brutal. They all have brought on everything that will come to them. I will delight in killing Sam for standing by and doing nothing about the sick things they have done. When Grant shows his face, I will laugh as I take the heart from his chest.
Saylor has hidden for way too long. I see all the emotions she shoves away. There are times I can physically see her shut them out. She needs to know she is allowed to feel everything.
“Can you turn, Kitty Cat?” I want to give her all the time she needs but I would rather do that when she is clothed.
“Yes,” she whispers.
She leans on my chest. I bite my lip until it hurts when I look down and see her perfect tits. I am a sick, sick man. I can’t control my hard cock as she pushes her ass back.
How am I supposed to wash her?
“Baby, give me your hand. I’ll give you the soap,” I say desperately.
“No, I want you.” She puts her hands on the outside of my thighs and gives me all of her weight.
Fuck. I am a saint.
Now is not the time to jump her. She just went through a traumatic event.
I close my eyes and run the soap over her soft fucking skin. I thought it would help if I couldn’t see what I was washing, but I know what they look like now. I know what her sweet pussy tastes like, looks like. I can still hear her moans ringing in my memories.
“Elijah?” Saylor asks.
“Yeah,” I respond.
“Make me come,” she states.
“What?” I ask, thinking my man brain is playing tricks on me. I open one eye.
“I want to forget. You can make me forget.”
“I doubt those are the right reasons,” I stall when all I want to do is grant her request.
“You make me feel so good. I want you to do it again. Please,” she begs, pressing harder against me.
What can I do? Say no?
“If you are sure?”
“I am. Please, Elijah,” she whimpers.
