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I watched as she lifted my arm, rubbing each and every finger to make sure it was clean. As she knelt between my legs to get the backs of my knees, my calves, my ankles. When she washed my cock, it wasn’t sexual. She was methodical, damn near clinical.
And so fucking pretty.
With her hands on my thighs, she angled me into the water, and I tilted my head back, letting the soap wash my sins away.
When it was over, Mari brushed the washcloth over her skin before I took it from her. “I’ll do this.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” I clung to her hips, trying to bring her closer, but she resisted.
“Nate,” she sighed. “Not tonight.”
With a rough tug, I pulled her back to my chest, wrapping an arm around her to hold her still as I ran the washcloth from her shoulder to her fingertips.
“I need this,” I whispered. “I need to take care of you. I need you.”
More than I could ever say. More than she would ever know, I needed her.
My angel.
My light in the dark.
I needed her touch and her voice and her love. I needed to know what she felt like against me because I worried if I didn’t have one more memory, I would forget what it felt like before.
Because this was the before, and tomorrow would be the after. Nothing could change that.
Time didn’t wait for us; it crept by in moments too fickle to hold in our memories. I wouldn’t let this be one of those cases. I would cling to her scent and the feel of her skin like it was a life raft.
Even if I lost every other memory, I refused to lose this.
Mari said nothing, but she stopped moving away, letting me touch every single part of her. Dipping her head so I could rinse the shampoo out of her hair, holding still while I brushed it with conditioner still heavy in the strands, coiling the ropes into curls with my fingers. Whatever it took to stay a little while longer.
Then it was done, and I watched as she tipped her head back and let the water rush over her too. In that moment, more than the pain, sorrow, or fear, I hungered.
I needed her on my tongue. My lips. My fingers and my cock. I needed her everywhere. I needed her to fill in the hole in my chest that was growing with every second.
When Mari opened her eyes, she dipped them to where my fist was wrapped around my cock.
“I need you,” I whispered hoarsely.
“Is this a good idea?”
No, but I need it all the same.
I reached out to palm the back of her head, tangling my fingers in the hair I’d just painstakingly combed and yanking her to my front. “You said you wanted to help. This will help.”
But even as I wanted her, I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t hurt her. I couldn’t hurt her. “If this is too much, if you feel like I’m using you?—”
“No,” she said firmly. “It’s not too much. I need this too.”
I saw it then, the fear she’d been pushing down. Fear for me. For us. The future. She was worried. Scared.
I was too.
She rose onto her toes and kissed me, and it was as if she’d opened an escape hatch. The breaths that were so hard for me to take on my own were suddenly easier. I groaned into her mouth, palming her ass to lift her into my arms.
She yanked back with an indignant huff. “You’re hurt.”
