Page 126 of Brutal Truths

He chucks my shoes and socks into the bin, then straightens and leans in, bracing his hands on either side of me. The heat of his breath against my skin makes me shiver, even though I shouldn’t feel anything except cold.

“You’re the only thing worth saving.” His tone is unwavering. “I’m going to scrub you clean. Wash away every trace of him. Then I’ll worship you like the goddess you are. When I’m done, my scent is the only one that will remain. It will be everywhere, inside and out.”

“Promise?” I whisper, not completely sure he can do that, but more than willing to let him try.

His hands settle on my waist, lifting me with ease before setting me back on my feet. Getting on his knees again, he works my pants free with practiced ease, tossing them in with the other blood-stained clothes.

“You doubt me?” His gaze darkens as his fingers catch the thin fabric of my knickers, the fabric giving with a sharp snap. “Get in the shower while I undress. These go too.”

“What will you wear after we’re all clean?” I ask, stepping into the stream of warm water I didn’t even realize he’d turned on. Tilting my head back, I let the water rinse the blood from my skin.

His gun hits the vanity with a subdued clatter before the answer comes in a low growl. “You.”

A slow, familiar warmth spreads through my chest and lower. My girly bits tingle with anticipation of what’s coming. It chases away the lingering cold.

When I reach for the bar of soap, he stops me. “That’s my job.”

Calloused hands roam over me with surprising care. Starting at my scalp, he works in the soap, slow and thorough, making sure nothing is missed, before trailing lower. The pace never rushes; each touch deliberate as he follows every curve like he’s mapping me out.

When he reaches my breasts, time seems to slow, and all I can focus on is him. Working them to hard points before moving on. His touch shifts as he works his hands down each arm, massaging the tension from sore muscles, making sure not to miss a spot.

The water carries everything away. I watch it disappear. Red suds circle the drain until they fade to nothing, like they were never there at all.

He steps up behind me, close enough that I feel him before he touches me again, reaching between my legs. “Let’s make sure this part of you is thoroughly clean.”

One hand presses against my belly, steadying me, while the other moves lower, careful at first. The touch shifts slowly, becoming something else, something that makes it harder to breathe.

“Yes,” I moan, leaning back into him. “Stop toying with me.”

His breath brushes my skin, followed by the faint press of his teeth to my neck. “You like that.”

The bar of soap hits the shower floor with a bang, surprising me. I startle for only a second but forget about that when his middle finger circles my clit, encouraging it to swell and become more sensitive to each beautiful stroke.

His erection at my back is impossible to ignore. It settles above the seam of my arse. Nobody’s ever taken me there. Not something I’ve thought about, not until this moment. But the thought of him there, of letting him have that part of me where no one else has been, sends something sharp and electric through me. I may never want him to do it again, but right now this is what I want.

“Aiden.” I press back into him, trusting him to understand what I can’t get myself to say out loud.

“What is it you want, princess?” He lowers his body and lets the length of him slip between my arse cheeks. “Tell me. Say the words.”

Arsehole.

Swallowing back my fear, I take a deep breath and bravely say, “Fuck my arse. I want you to fuck my arse with that big, beautiful cock of yours. Please?”

His cock twitches as he leans forward and nips at my neck again. “You sure?”

“Yes.” I fall forward, pressing my palms against the tile wall. “You said you wanted to put your scent inside every inch of me. Start there.”

His grip tightens at my hips, firm enough that I know I’ll wear a bruise.

“I’ll need lube.” His tone steady, all the intensity reined in just enough. “I’m not taking your arse without it. Do you have any?”

I shake my head in disappointment.

“What about in the kitchen?” Aiden slides a finger inside me and strokes that deep spot that always weakens my knees. “Coconut oil, maybe?”

“Not sure.” Words are hard to form when he plays with me like this. “Maybe. Go check.”

He slaps my arse before slipping his finger free. “Dry off while I check. Then on your bed, on all fours. I want your arse up in the air and ready when I come back.”