Setting the bottle aside, I stroked her hair back from her damp face, tucking the strands gently behind her ear. “I’m going to prepare a bath for you,” I told her. “You need to relax your body. No arguments, Olivia.”
By the time I reached her thighs, she was half-asleep, her sighs soft, her body pliant under me. I leaned forward, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades, whispering against her skin, “Rest, Olivia. I’ve got you.”
“Shh,” I soothed, my hands moving lower, working over her spine with steady pressure. “Don’t speak. Just feel.”
“Lean forward,” I instructed, my voice calm but commanding. She obeyed, her damp hair falling forward, and I cupped water into my palms, pouring it gently over her hair. The strands clung to her back, dark and glistening. I worked shampoo through them slowly, massaging her scalp with my fingers until I felt the tension melting from her. She sighed, the sound low and content, and my chest tightened with something far deeper than desire.
Her breath caught, and she tilted her head, trying to hide the blush blooming on her cheeks. I smirked softly, taking pride in every reaction she couldn’t control.
I crossed the room to the mini fridge tucked against the wall. The cool air hit me as I opened it, pulling out a chilled bottle of water. When I returned, she was still watching me, lips parted, chest rising and falling in soft, uneven breaths.
She whispered, “Thank you.”
When I finished, I pressed a kiss to her damp temple and whispered, “It’s time for your massage.” I lifted her from the bath. Her damp body curled against me like it belonged there, her head tucked under my chin. I carried her back to the bedroom, laid her gently on the bed, and pulled the blanket aside.
Reluctantly, I eased her back against the pillows and stood. “Stay here,” I said, my tone low, firm, the same command I’d give in the heat of play–except this time it carried tenderness instead of fire.
I crossed to the dresser, uncapped the small vial of massage oil, and warmed it between my palms before climbing onto the bed, straddling her hips. My hands slid over her back in long, slow strokes, spreading the oil across her skin.
I smiled faintly, my hands still in her hair. “That’s because you’re mine to care for. My responsibility. My mate.”
Her lashes fluttered, her eyes glassy, but she followed. Every breath she took steadied mine. I kissed her temple, lingering there.
My body went rigid. I glanced at Olivia’s peaceful face, torn between ignoring and answering the mind link.
I leaned closer, my mouth brushing her ear as I whispered, “No, Olivia. You’re drained.” When I returned to the bed, she was still awake… most subs fall asleep immediately after play.
She shifted slightly, her thighs parting under the water, teasing, testing me. A soft laugh left her lips. “Another round, Master Louis?”
I rinsed her hair carefully, tilting her head just right so nothing dripped into her eyes. Then I reached for the sponge, lathering it slowly before sliding it down her arm, across her shoulder, over the curve of her chest. I didn’t rush–I traced every inch of her like she was something sacred.
“Breathe with me,” I whispered, pressing my forehead against hers. My voice was hoarse, stripped raw of command, yet I kept speaking softly, steadily, the way I would soothe a wolf in pain. “In… slow. Good. Now out. Again. That’s it, Olivia.”
“You are good at this,” she murmured, her eyes half-closed. “So fucking good.”
Every muscle under my touch eased, her breathing deepening, her body surrendering to the comfort of my hands. My wolf rumbled, content, as I pressed my palms down her back, circling over her waist, kneading the tension from her hips.
Just as my own eyes began to close, a familiar voice cut sharply through my mind.
I bent, pressing my lips to her temple. “Always,” I said, the word rough, because it wasn’t just an answer–it was a promise.
“Here,” I murmured, twisting the cap and holding it to her lips. She drank slowly, her throat working with each swallow, and I kept my hand steady, making sure she didn’t rush. A few drops slid down her chin, and I caught them with my thumb, brushing them away before pressing a kiss to the same spot.
“Louis, where are you?”
Her cheeks flushed.
My chest clenched at the sound of it–those broken sobs she couldn’t swallow. Even though I knew she wasn’t crying out of pain, I still felt terrible hearing her cry. I lowered us carefully onto the bed, refusing to let her slip from my arms. She was light in my hold, far too light for the weight she carried inside her, and I knew I had pushed her hard. Maybe too hard. The thought made me feel regretful. I pulled the blanket over her bare body, wrapping it snug around her before she could shiver. My fingers brushed her cheek, tracing away the dampness there, and for the first time since I had touched her tonight, my hands trembled.
I continued the massage until her breath evened, her body sinking into the mattress, every trace of strain gone. And only when I was sure she had drifted into sleep did I settle beside her, pulling the blanket over both of us and wrapping my arm securely around her waist. My wolf finally stilled, content with her safe in my arms.
“You scare me when you cry like that,” I admitted quietly, almost ashamed of the truth. “I think I’ve gone too far, that I’ve broken something I can’t fix. But then you look at me… and you beg me to stay. Goddess, you undo me.”
She gasped softly as the heat enveloped her, her shoulders sinking, her head falling back against the porcelain edge. I knelt beside the tub, my hands never leaving her body.
Her soft gasp reached my ears as my thumbs dug carefully into the knots at her shoulders. “Mmm… Louis…” she whispered, her voice melting into the sheets. Her lips curved faintly, almost teasing, but she didn’t resist. She simply nodded. I kissed her forehead again, lingering, and then straightened, pulled on my pants, and headed for the bathroom. The sound of rushing water filled the air as I tested the temperature, making sure it was warm enough to soothe without being too hot. I poured a stream of lavender oil into the water, watching ripples spread the scent across the surface. The air grew heavy with it, calming even me, though my wolf paced restlessly inside, aching to claim Olivia again. But tonight, that wasn’t happening.
“Come,” I said gently, scooping her into my arms before she could protest. She fit against me so easily, her arms curling instinctively around my neck. I carried her into the bathroom, lowering her carefully into the steaming water.
“On your stomach,” I murmured. She obeyed without hesitation, her wet hair spilling over her shoulders as she settled into the pillows.
I stroked her hair, slow and rhythmic, until her trembling eased. I held her gaze, unable to look away. Damn, she was beautiful like this–flushed, damp, eyes glassy from tears and pleasure. My wolf howled in possession, demanding I claim her again, but I forced him down. Right now, she needed my care more than my hunger.
I stroked the sponge across her collarbone, down to her stomach, slowly and carefully. “All you need is rest. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll fuck you until you can’t use your legs.”
Her body collapsed against mine, trembling, drained but still clinging as if she feared I’d vanish if she let go. I tightened my hold, one arm wrapped around her back, the other cradling the back of her head. She was damp with sweat and tears, her breath hot against my neck.