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I run my hands up and down her back, and she flinches.
“I was too rough with her,” Vincent mutters, his lips pulled into a thin line.
I shake my head and stroke her hair. “No,” I say. “We would have known.”
“I would have said no,” she mutters into my chest. “Don’t be stupid, Vincent.”
His eyes widen a fraction, and I chuckle before pressing a kiss to her hair. “There’s my girl,” I whisper.
She hums contentedly.
Her scent has changed from thick and sugary-sweet to subtle and light. For now, her inner Omega is satiated.
We did the right thing.
Vincent stands to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he mutters, shooting one last longing look at Skylar. “Make sure she gets sleep and eats.”
He says it like I wouldn’t. As if he doesn’t know the depth of my feelings, and how all I want to do is pamper her like a lovesick teenager.
“Of course,” I reply, not wanting to argue with him. Seeing Vincent fret or care about anything is a big enough deal as it is.
So, I stay with Skylar, stroking her cheek and murmuring sweet words into her ear as the front door shuts.
Her breathing has evened out, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths as I slowly pull out of her. She keeps her arms wrapped around my neck as I adjust myself, yanking up my boxers and zipping my pants.
I carry her to her bedroom, then place her gently on the bed as I run her a bath.
It feels right to do this for her. Somewhere in my soul, a primal urge is finally satiated.
After making sure the temperature is perfect, I return to the bedroom, where she’s sitting up and grinning at me sleepily.
“You don’t have to do all that,” she murmurs, as I scoop her up and carry her to the bathroom.
“Of course I don’t,” I reply, sitting her down on the side of the tub. She lifts her arms, and I help remove the nightgown from her body. My breath stutters as I gaze down at her naked form, marveling at her soft skin and the mating gland that’s begging to be touched.
Mine.
“Taking care of you makes me happier than you could ever imagine,” I promise her, leaning down to press a kiss to her neck.
She rolls her eyes as a blush forms on her pale skin.
Kneeling in front of her, I brush a lock of hair away from her face. “May I wash you?” I ask.
I want to leave her clean and free of my fluids before I tuck her under the covers. She deserves that much.
Her eyes soften, and her voice turns small. “Really?” she asks, and I see the insecurities flash across her face. “It won’t gross you out?”
I’m stunned. “Why would that be the case?” I ask softly.
She shrugs and looks away, trying to play it off.
It takes me a moment to figure it out.
And I suddenly hope that River’s coffee in the gas tank somehow made Jason’s truck explode.
“Skylar,” I whisper. “Look at me.”
She swallows and meets my gaze, her eyes watery. She forces herself to give me a small smile, and my heart aches.
