Opening one eye, I watch Zeke change into a fresh pair of sweats and disappear from view. Where the hell is he going? I hope he’s going to grab a clean set of sheets considering we all but destroyed this set. I can’t even bear the thought of looking at the stains or the prospect of unwrapping myself from the duvet cocoon he made me. But despite how warm and comfy and spent I am, I’ll have to do that soon.
Zeke walks back into the room with something clutched in his hands. He places whatever it is on the dresser, then goes straight to the bathroom. A few seconds later, the sound of running water drifts out of the open doorway. I guess I’d better get cleaned up too. I shrug off the covers and shiver as the cool air hits my damp skin.
Zeke comes back out of the bathroom and glares at me. “I thought I told you to stay right there,” he says in his usual grumpy growl, but something about his tone is different. Laced with a hint of concern, perhaps.
“I need to get cleaned up.” I sit up and wince at the sight of the blood-soaked sheets, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “And all this.”
He stares at them too, an unmistakable look of pride on his face as he surveys the damage. “I’ll take care of the sheets.” He scoops me into his arms, eliciting a tiny shriek of protest from me, but when he curls those huge biceps around my body, I practically melt into his chest. “After I take care of you.”
Oh, well now my ovaries have exploded. I study his face, waiting for him to turn back into the grumpy, ice-cold asshole I’ve come to know, but he keeps his gaze fixed ahead. The scent of cinnamon fills the bathroom, reminding me of Christmas and pulling up long-buried bittersweet memories. Steam rises from the tub that’s nearly filled to the brim with water and white bubbles. I press my cheek against Zeke’s shoulder, careful to avoid his scars. “You have bubble bath?”
“I took some from Fitch’s room.” He sets me on the edge of the tub and dips his hand into the water. With a satisfied nod, he turns off the tap, then picks me back up and places me in the hot water before I can protest that I’m capable of climbing in by myself.
Any protest would have died on my lips as soon as my ass hit this water. A harsh moan tumbles from my lips as I sink into the soothing heat, and the relief that engulfs my aching limbs makes my mind go blank. Closing my eyes, I rest my head on the edge of the huge tub and sigh. “This feels so good.”
Zeke mumbles something, but I’m too focused on my bliss to make out the words. A few seconds later, the sound of rustling clothing reaches me. Opening my eyes, I unashamedly stare at his toned and tattooed naked body. His cock hangs thick and heavy between his thighs, and I lick my lips at the remembered sensation of him filling me so completely.
“Move up.” Without waiting, he steps into the tub behind me and nudges me forward with his knees. I’m busy gawking at him over my shoulder. I never would have expected him to get in here with me. He usually avoids getting too close. Zeke gestures at his bloodstained torso and thighs and flashes a wicked grin. “You got us both a little messy.”
Wrinkling my nose at the reminder, I scoot forward, making room for him to sit behind me. “I believe it was you who created most of that mess.”
Once he’s situated, he gathers my hair into his fist and drapes it over my shoulder, then wraps his huge arms around me, pulling my back against his chest. Unsure how to handle this new side of him, I tentatively rest my head on his shoulder. When he presses a soft kiss on my temple, a kaleidoscope of butterflies takes flight in my stomach.
The silence is broken by Xander’s voice coming from somewhere outside our little bubble. “Hey, Zeke. You seen Lily?” A few seconds later, his horrified exclamation of “Holy fuck!” has me stifling a giggle. Strong arms band tighter around my torso, and the possessiveness in that small act makes heat coil deep in my belly.
Xander pops his head into the bathroom and arches one eyebrow at the pair of us before strolling inside. “Kinda looks like there’s been a homicide out there.” He tilts his head toward the bedroom.
“Lily got her period,” Zeke says matter-of-factly.
Xander’s knowing smile has me wondering what I missed. I turn my head to find a similar smirk on Zeke’s face. “What’s that look about, deviants?”
Xander perches on the edge of the tub and brushes a lock of hair from my forehead. “Zeke has a huge blood kink.”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and skim my fingers over the bite marks he left on the inside of my thighs. “Well, now that makes sense.”
Dusting his lips over the back of my neck, Zeke dips his hand between my thighs and cups my pussy. His groan rumbles through me, and he shifts his hips so that we both sink deeper into the water.
Xander’s lips curl up at the edges, and I frown. “What else am I missing?”
Xander dips his head, brushing his lips over mine with the promise of a kiss that he doesn’t deliver. He sits back, his blue eyes holding me captive. “Zeke here might love to cause pain, but what he loves just as much is to take care of you afterward.”
Zeke grunts, his breath ruffling through my hair.
Xander grins. “And the more he makes it hurt, the better he’ll take care of you after. Isn’t that right, Z?”
“You’d know,” Zeke replies.
“I would and I do. Enjoy being taken care of, shorty.” He winks at me, then gives me a quick kiss on the lips. “I gotta go into the office for a few hours. You working from home?” he asks Zeke.
Zeke grunts again, and I feel him nod his agreement. Xander smiles at him before he walks out of the room. “You two have fun now,” he calls out as he disappears from view.
“Are you staying home to take care of me, Ezekiel?” I snuggle into him and bite my lip to stifle a giggle when his cock twitches against my lower back.
“Does that surprise you, buttercup?”
“Um, yeah.”
He flicks his tongue over my shoulder blade, his teeth skating tantalizingly across my skin. “I just told you I was going to take care of you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but …” I bite down on my lip. “Was what Xander said true? Do you like taking care of people after you’ve hurt them?”
He circles the pad of his pointer finger over my clit, and my hips buck, chasing the pleasure he promises. He’s trying to distract me—it’s working like a charm.
“Zeke?” I pant, and he increases the pressure on the sensitive bud of flesh.
He doesn’t speak. Instead he uses that wickedly sinful mouth to trail kisses and tiny bites all over my neck and shoulders while he brings me to another mind-blowing orgasm.
After he made me come in the tub, Zeke washed us both clean and I lay in his arms until the water got too chilly. Now he has me wrapped in a white fluffy towel standing in his bedroom. I squeeze my thighs together, conscious that I’m still bleeding. “I, uh, really need to go get my things.”
“No need, baby doll.” Baby doll? My heart swells. Then he goes to the vanity and takes something from it. A second later, he’s standing before me with a devious smirk on his face. I’m about to ask him what he’s doing when he drops to his knees, lifts my towel with one hand, and grabs my foot with the other. I offer a feeble protest.
“Relax.” He presses a soft kiss on the inside of my ankle and places my foot on his shoulder. It’s only now that I see the familiar blue packet in his hand. He must have grabbed it when he left the room earlier. He tears the package open with his teeth, and my stomach flutters so violently that I feel lightheaded.
“Zeke! I can do that, please …”
He pulls the tampon from the wrapper, and my cheeks burn hotter. He looks up at me, eyes full of deviance and amusement. “I’ve already had my fingers, my tongue, and my cock inside your pussy, buttercup. Why are you all coy about me inserting a tampon?” With that, he pushes it inside me with one thick finger, and my eyes roll back in my head. That should not be hot!
When he’s done, he presses a tender kiss between my thighs and stands tall again.
“Um, thank you,” I whisper, my cheeks still burning with embarrassment.
He tilts his head, eyes boring into mine. “You’re so fucking cute when you blush,”
“And you’re very different when you …” I don’t finish the sentence because I’m not entirely sure what this new dynamic is between us.
Going over to his dresser, he wipes his hands and grabs a small jar from the top drawer. He comes back over and pulls the towel from my body, leaving me naked. Although the room is warm, I shiver. He unscrews the lid of the jar and scoops out a little of the contents with his pointer finger before rubbing it into the skin on my shoulder. I twist my head to see another bite mark.
“I broke the skin here,” he says by way of explanation.
“Oh.” I suck on my bottom lip as he rubs the ointment into my skin, his fingers moving carefully over the tender flesh while his dark eyes watch me intently. Xander was right about him; he does seem to enjoy taking care of people after he’s hurt them. But while he did hurt me, the kind of pain he delivers is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced, and I’m open to a whole lot more of it.
