The ache in my chest turned into something raw that made me want to turn around and sob against his mouth. Because as broken as this was, as twisted and wrong as so much of it had been… this was the man I kept forgetting lived underneath all the chaos. The man who loved so fiercely it broke him.
He reached for the loofah again, but his hand hesitated on my waist.
“Kasmine…” His voice was hoarse. “You don’t want to stay. I know. But you’re here. And I’m holding you. So I’m going to pretend- for just a little while-that I haven’t lost you.”
My throat tightened. My chest felt like it might crack open.
“I just need… I need to take care of you. Let me take care of you, please.”
I turned slightly, just enough to glance up at him, and God, the look in his eyes-those deep green irises that had once terrified me -were soft. So open I could barely stand it.
His lips were parted, his expression carved from grief, devotion, and love so deep it didn’t know how to be anything else.
“Kester…” I whispered.
But he didn’t let me finish.
His hand slid up my throat, slowly cradling my jaw as he leaned in. Cur lips met with the gentleness of something broken. His mouth moved over mine like he knew he didn’t deserve forgiveness but would give everything to earn a piece of it anyway.
I melted.
I kissed him back.
There was no point pretending anymore.
The mate bond wrapped around my ribcage and squeezed until I couldn’t breathe.
His hand slid lower.
God.
Lower.
Down past my ribs, my navel, dragging through the thin layer of water that lapped at my hips. My breath hitched-caught in my throat when his fingers brushed the top of my mound.
He pressed his hand down, cupping me gently without moving.
I moaned softly into his mouth.
And that was all the permission he needed.
His fingers moved, ministering slow strokes through my folds, parting me open. My center pulsed against his hand with a need so raw it almost hurt.
My legs shifted, spreading wider without even meaning to. His touch was maddening. It was barely there and barely enough. It was just a teasing pass over that aching bundle of nerves that ached harder each second.
His middle finger traced through my folds slowly, like he was savoring every reaction he got.
And he kept kissing me.
God, the way he kissed me. Tongue deep, ravenous, tasting every part of my mouth like he was making up for all the days we lost. Like he needed to drink me in or die trying.
My hips arched into his hand without shame.
“Kester…” I whimpered into his mouth.
His hand slid lower again, his fingers finding my entrance and dipping just inside before pulling back out, slick and slow, I swear the heat of the bath could have boiled me alive and I wouldn’t have noticed.
I clenched around him, the pleasure twisting through my belly.
I moaned.
I could feel his arousal so hard and thick beneath me, pressed against my lower back, and it pulsed with the same desperate rhythm pounding in my veins.
My head rolled against his chest as I gasped. “Kes…”
“Yes, baby,” He replied in a gruff voice, “You like that?” He asked as he dipped his finger into my entrance again.
And again. And again, building the tension so high I thought I might cry until I was a trembling mess.
He paused and dipped a second finger, working me open for his pleasure.
His other arm curled tighter around my waist, anchoring me to him as he gradually increased the pace of his thrust. My thighs trembled in the water, making little ripples lap up around us.
“Kester-God- My head tipped back against his ‘shoulder, “Please…
“Shhhh…” He hushed, his tongue grazing the side of my neck, “Shh… Don’t.moan, baby.”
This was insane.
He shouldn’t get to do that… Push me to the edge of insanity and ask me not to moan.
I did my best to hold it in. But the ecstasy was maddening. The way my wetness mixed with the water in the tub, with his fingers making those squishy sex sounds as they met with my slick center, made me almost lose my mind.
“Kest-ah-don’t stop- I gasped, hands gripping the edge of the tub. “Please, don’t stop-
And just like that, he stopped.
His fingers slowly slipped out of me, and the absence was like a sting. My breath stuttered as I twisted my head, my eyes wide and glassy from the brink he’d pulled me back from. I looked up at him with disbelief and desperation aching in my gaze.
“Why did you stop?” I asked.
His mouth curled into a slow, wicked smirk. His green eyes, still so soft and tender around the edges, had darkened now with dominance.
“Because you moaned,” he said simply. “And I told you not to.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he didn’t let me. Before a sound could leave my lips, his two fingers slid back in so deep, curling them just right, and my back bowed in response. me. He pushed
“Don’t,” he whispered near my ear, his lips brushing the shell of it. His hand tightened just enough on my jaw to make me hold still.
“If you moan again, stop. I’ll leave you shaking and soaked, begging like a ruined little thing.”
I swallowed hard, nodding without thinking.
God, I couldn’t breathe.
“You’ll sit here and take every fucking second of what I give you like good girl without a cry, not even a whimper. You don’t get to scream unless I say so. I want to see you unravel without a sound. Understood?”
He began thrusting into me wit an unholiness that made my vision blur.
But I didn’t moan.
I didn’t even gasp.
I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood, and my hands clutched the edge of the tub with white-knuckled desperation.
Kester’s mouth curled into a wicked smile against the shell of my ear
“Good girl,” he rasped, his fingers thrusting deeper now, angling just so. “Feel how wet you are for me? You’re drenched. So soaked. I could fuck you with my fist, and you’d still beg for more, wouldn’t you?”
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