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“Which part?”
Her throat is raw. I hear it, and I see all her bruises again, all the scratches, and the animal inside me finally yields to the protector. The beast you feed is the one that grows. Theron chose his beast five years ago. Have I chosen mine?
I sigh.
“Come, Mercedes. You’re hurt.”
I’m not sure if it’s my words or my tone that stop her, but for once, she doesn’t argue. I walk around the bed to the bathroom and run the water in the tub. Rolling up my sleeve, I check the temperature to make sure it’s not too hot for her cuts but not too cool so it’s not uncomfortable. Once I’m satisfied, I plug it and stand, drying my hands on a towel.
She comes into view at the door, still suspicious.
“I will wash his touch off you before I take care of your cuts and bruises.”
“You hate him.”
I don’t answer that. It’s obvious enough. “What were you thinking to run? I wouldn’t harm you. Don’t you know that? I will punish you, but I will never take it too far.”
“Last night was too far.”
“Last night wounded your pride.”
“You lost your temper, Judge.”
I am mute for a long moment. I hang my head because she’s right. It happened last night. And again just a few moments ago. What would she do if she ever saw that punishment room? She’d run for the hills.
No, she’d run right into my brother’s waiting arms.
“I don’t like when that happens,” she admits in a voice I don’t hear often. “It scares me.”
I look at her, close the space between us to brush her cheek with the knuckles of one hand. “I won’t lose control with you. I promise. Your scars... I’d never do that to you. Hurt you like that.”
“But you already have.”
Again, I’m struck mute. With a sigh, she brushes my arm off, then crosses to the tub and climbs in.
I will unpack that later. I can’t right now. My head is still swimming, and she needs me. I strip off my shirt and toss it aside. What I mean to do is sit on the edge of the tub and clean her. It’s my intention.
But she reaches to switch off the water and turns her gaze to me. The way she watches me, it’s like she sees right through me. Her body is submerged, dark hair floating on the surface, her face so pretty, so overwhelmingly pretty, that I break my own rule again. I strip off my shoes and socks. My pants. She watches, holding her breath as I push my briefs off. Her eyes move to my cock, and I let her take it in before crossing to the tub and climbing in behind her.
She turns in my arms, water splashing onto the bathroom floor.
I hold her and push hair from her face. She straddles me, but I grip her hips.
“No.”
She grunts her disapproval. “Yes.”
I dig my fingers into her hips to halt her and force her to sit across from me.
“I don’t care, Judge. I don’t care if I’m pure.”
“I do. And just to be very clear, my brother won’t. You stay away from him. Now give me your foot.”
She slides her foot provocatively along my thigh. I catch it and give her a look.
“Why do you hate him?”
“Sibling rivalry,” I say, cleaning her, massaging her muscles as I do. She’d have been sore from the way I had her trussed up last night, but then adding what happened this morning, I’ll take even more care.
