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When I can finally move again, I push myself up on my arms and look down at her. She's wrecked beneath me, completely ruined. Her makeup is smeared. Her hair is a riot. Her little body still trembles, and tears leak from her eyes.
She's never looked more beautiful to me.
"You're a fucking warrior, baby," I whisper, pulling her up into my arms. I rain kisses all across her face and run my hands up and down her body, unable to stop myself from touching her, kissing her…worshipping her.
Her body is pliant in my arms, completely boneless.
"I need you to open your eyes and look at me, sweetheart." I need to see her eyes, make sure I didn't push her too far. Rationally, I know she can take anything I throw at her—she really is a fucking warrior—but the fear of pushing too hard, of taking too much, is still there. The thought of losing her scares the shit out of me. "Open your eyes, baby."
They open slowly, her expression still dazed. It takes her a minute to focus on me.
Relief rushes through me when she finally does. Pure bliss stares back at me from those bright green depths, wiping away the fear still roiling in my gut. She's okay.
I ease her back down to the bed, kissing her forehead when she whimpers a wordless protest.
"I'll be right back," I promise her, and then climb from the bed, groaning. My body is stiff and sore, every muscle protesting as I stroll toward the bathroom. I took her hard, and I feel it. Not that it matters. She's my priority. I need to take care of her, or she'll be the one really feeling it in the morning.
"Damn," I mutter when I step into the bathroom to start the tub and catch sight of myself in the mirror. Her claw marks are all over my shoulders and arms, some scratches so deep they drew blood. I shake my head and smile to myself at the sight of them.
She's a hellcat, as rough and wild as I am. She takes as good as she gets every single time. I should have fucking known better than to doubt that.
Once I get the tub going, I step back into the bedroom. She still hasn't moved from where I left her. Her eyes are closed, her body still sprawled across the top of my bed like a wanton sacrifice. Her legs are parted, her pussy peeking from between those thick thighs.
The sight has my cock stirring, ready for another round.
She's too gorgeous for her own good.
I pick her up and tuck her against my chest, ignoring my growing erection.
"Roman." She curls into me with a soft, contented sigh.
"Come on, baby. Let's clean you up," I murmur, pressing another kiss to her sweaty forehead.
She sighs again when I step into the bathtub and lower us down into the hot water, keeping her on my lap. I groan softly, the water loosening the tight, aching muscles all over my body. She sighs, too, her body sprawled across mine haphazardly.
I brush the hair back from her face and kiss her forehead. Her lips curve upward in a sweet little smile, and she hums in the back of her throat.
"You okay, baby?" I ask quietly, running my hands up and down her sides. I love the way her skin feels against mine. She's so fucking soft everywhere. Her flesh pebbles beneath my fingers, making me smile.
"Mmhmm," she hums.
I chuckle softly and kiss her forehead again before relaxing.
We sit in silence for several long moments. Mila isn't a particularly loud or talkative person. She's more than content to just let me quietly hold her. But I avoided talking to her for a long time, trying to avoid getting in any deeper with her. I listened to every fucking word she ever said, but I rarely gave her any back. Since the day she called me out on not ever talking to her, I've been trying to change that.
But she was right tonight. I have been shutting her out. Since she got here, I've been keeping shit to myself, trying to deal with it on my own. She's been so fucking sad over Tahani, I didn't want to add to that burden. My need to protect her is overwhelming, an intrinsic part of me. She's a warrior, though. I need to remember that, and so does she.
"I wasn't mad at you tonight, Mila," I tell her. "I was pissed at myself. You've been so fucking sad since all that shit with Tahani went down, and you looked beautiful tonight. I wanted to make you smile. I'm fucking proud of you, and I wanted you to have a good time celebrating your success."
"I was having a good time," she mumbles. Her voice is still thick and lazy, like it's hard for her to form words. She's more alert in my arms, though, listening intently.
"Seeing everyone staring at you fucked me up a little," I admit.
"Why?"
"I'm possessive as hell when it comes to you. You're mine. The thought of anyone else touching you makes me want to kill someone."
"I feel the same way about you," she whispers, heat creeping into her voice.
