Page 87 of A Sweet Destruction

Of my scent, I assumed. I had a habit of doing it to her when she wasn’t paying attention.

She’d clearly denied herself for too long. As was frustratingly common over the past weeks, I was becoming painfully aware of what she must have suffered in those first years. Sure, the Bond was coming back with a vengeance, but the absolute need must be the same.

While this was meant to calm her, I could tell it was only making her more agitated.

Esme’s movements started to become more panicked, more consuming as she continued nuzzling against me. She was seconds away from losing her control.

She would hate herself for it, and I simply couldn’t allow that.

“The water isn’t warm anymore,” I said, my voice far too hoarse to deny any sort of reaction to her affection on my end. It was, enough that there was still steam rising from the bath, but I wasn’t coherent enough to come up with a better excuse.

Esme stilled, raking in a deep breath against my skin. Her eyes stayed closed as she breathed and breathed and breathed until I felt her lips part against my wrist. “What’s next?”

“What?” My brain felt like it was pushing through mud to form a thought.

I felt Esme’s swallow against my arm. “In taking care of me? What’s next?”

Relief hit me so hard it almost knocked me on my ass. Even in my shock, I sure as shit wasn’t going to waste this opportunity, especially when the odds were that Esme would wake up with renewed resolve.

Don’t let her, the Bond chimed in.

You know what, it had a point. I wasn’t going to force her into anything—I’d sooner off myself than cross a line she drew. That didn’t mean I couldn’t show her what changing her mind would look like.

“Okay,” I said softly, trying not to spook her.

It took several seconds for me to release her, but eventually I stood and turned toward the door, grabbing the plushest towel of the bunch.

I extended the towel and closed my eyes, turning away.

The sound of the water sloshing as she stood, naked, right in front of me was damn near enough to send me over the edge.

I deserved a fucking award for keeping myself in check, my eyes closed until I felt her nestle into the towel, taking it from me to wrap it around herself.

When I opened my eyes to look at her again, already missing the sight of her after a few moments, I found her looking at me expectantly.

She was trusting me, even if just for tonight. She’d let me take care of her as I saw fit.

You know what, maybe it was a good thing that I hadn’t been awake when she’d been hurt. If I had been there when she—

I had to cut off that line of thinking before I got violent.

If I’d been there, I would have been a lot worse. Seeing her standing in front of me was my only solace.

I wrapped my hands over the tops of her shoulders, if not to feel our Mark underneath my hands. I led her carefully to the countertop, motioning for her to stay still. I reached into her things and pulled out the bottles and containers I’d seen her use over the years and set them out in front of her, then reached to the side for her hair brush.

When I pulled back and caught her eyes in the mirror, she was looking at me with a dumbfounded expression. I had to smile at that, at the idea that I wouldn’t have noticed every little thing about her, the Bond be damned.

I reached for the clip that held her hair up, carefully removing it, as I said, “I noticed, Esme.”

Esme’s breath hitched, but she stayed silent. I wouldn’t press. I’d let her act like she was doing me a favor tonight.

I swept the fall of her hair down her back, then got to work gently brushing the strands while she tended to her skin.

I’d once heard her describe her hair as just brown. No part of her was just anything. The way the soft brown had lit up like a crackling fire under the candlelight was evidence enough.

A soft, contented sound left her lips as I moved the brush over her scalp, and my mind went straight to a different way to conjure up that very sound.

When I was finished, I twisted her hair in my hand the way I’d seen her do so many times, trying my mighty best to keep my thoughts straight, and placed the clip back in her hair. I noticed Esme’s eyes starting to close, so I said, “Keep ‘em open, sweetheart. We’re not done.”