Page 87 of Hero Worship

The steam was so thick in the bathroom I could barely see when he pushed my shirt over my shoulders and let it fall to the floor with his dress. My eyes were fixed on the bruises covering his chest, neck, and thighs. The bruises I’d put there. The bruises that made him mine.

Xander lifted my hand and forced me to trace one of the darker marks. “These will fade,” he promised. “And when they do, you’ll mark me again. And again. And again. Every day for the rest of our lives, Ash. Forever.”

I met his eyes. Forever seemed like such a foreign concept. What the hell lasted forever? When I was young, I used to think I would, but now… Now forever had a finite timeline. I had thirty, maybe forty, good years left in me. That should’ve scared the hellout of me. Instead, all I could think of was how I wanted to spend every one of them with Xander.

Xander eased my belt open carefully, letting the leather slither free before moving to the zipper. My cock was already half hard despite everything, responding to their nearness even as my mind struggled. But there was nothing sexual in his touch as they helped me out of my clothes. This was about comfort. About trust.

His remaining clothes came off, revealing pale skin marred my bruises, evidence of our savage love. My teeth marks on his shoulder. My fingerprints on his hips. Seeing them again stirred something possessive and dark in my chest, but he quieted it with a gentle touch and a soft kiss.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured again, guiding me into the shower.

The first blast of water hit like absolution, hot enough to punch the air from my lungs. Steam rose around us in thick clouds as Xander positioned me under the spray. He pressed in close, his skin slick against mine, and I felt his hard cock brush against my thigh. Slow, soft kisses trailed up my collarbone to my neck, each one more real than the last.

“Look at me,” he ordered quietly, pressing a washcloth into my hands. “Help me clean off.”

My fingers traced crimson trails down his chest where Roche’s blood had soaked through his dress. The water ran pink around our feet as I scrubbed each spot with methodical care. Every swipe of the cloth revealed more of his skin, more of him, more of my marks on him. My claim was written in purple and blue across perfect, pale skin.

“Just focus on me,” he murmured. “On us. Nothing else exists right now but that.”

He was right. The world beyond the shower felt distant, unreal. Here, there was only the steady beat of water againstthe tile floor, the familiar scent of his expensive floral soap, the warmth of his skin under my hands. Each touch anchored me more in the present, pulling me back from the edge of memories I didn’t want to face.

“You’re still shaking.” Xander caught my hands and pressed in closer. “Let me?”

I swallowed and nodded.

Xander reached for the shampoo. His fingers worked it through my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp. The simple intimacy of it felt…good. Better than good. There wasn’t a word to describe just how amazing it felt.

“You know what I see when I look at you?” Xander tilted my head back to rinse my hair in the water. “I see someone who puts so much effort into protecting others that he forgets to protect himself sometimes. Someone who carries weight he doesn’t need to carry alone anymore.”

His words hit me with devastating accuracy, forcing their way past walls I hadn’t even realized I had up. My defenses crumbled under his steady touch and those soft, knowing eyes.

“I couldn’t save him,” I admitted finally, the confession torn from somewhere deep in my chest. “My father. I knew what he was doing to those girls, but I couldn’t… I wasn’t strong enough to stop him. So I swore to myself I’d never be that weak again. I learned to hunt monsters like him, threw everything I had into becoming what I wish I could’ve been then. But tonight…”

“Tonight you had to become a monster to stop one,” Xander finished when I couldn’t continue. “But that’s not who you are. It’s just a role you played. Like all the roles we play to survive.”

His hands never stopped moving, washing away more than just the physical evidence of what we’d done. Each touch felt like forgiveness, like understanding.

“I choose you,” he said firmly. “Every version of you. The protector and the predator. The agent and the avenger. All of it, because that’s what love means for people like us.”

Water ran down his face like tears, but his eyes were clear and certain when they met mine. In that moment, I finally understood what he’d been trying to tell me. Love wasn’t about being worthy. It was about being chosen, broken pieces and all.

My hands found his hips, thumbs pressing into the marks I’d left there earlier. Something shifted in the air between us as Xander arched his back slightly, water running in thick rivulets down the elegant curve of his throat.

“Please,” he breathed. “I want you. I need to know you’re still mine.”

The raw need in his voice broke something in me. I spun him to face the wall, pressing against his back to cage him in with my body. My lips found the skin over his pulse, tasting water and soap and the salt of his skin. Every heartbeat against my tongue was proof he was alive, whole, perfect. His hands braced against the tile as I marked him again, adding fresh bruises to the ones already beginning to fade.

“I’ll always be yours,” I growled against his throat. “Even when I lose myself, I will always find my way back to you.”

My cock throbbed against his ass as he ground back against me. One of his hands reached back to tangle in my hair, holding me against his neck as I sucked another mark in his skin.

“Now, please,” he whined. “Need you now.”

I pressed him harder against the wall, the contrast of his pale skin against the dark marble a thing of beauty. Everything about him was a study in beautiful contradiction, strength and submission, danger and grace.

“Wait here,” I ordered, reluctantly pulling away. I stepped out of the shower just long enough to grab the lube from my toiletry kit. Water ran down my body, pooling on the floor, but I couldn’tbring myself to care about the mess. Not when Xander was waiting for me, pressed against the tile exactly where I’d left him.

I uncapped the bottle as I stepped back under the spray. Xander let out a soft gasp as I worked the first finger inside him, marveling at how hot and tight his body always was.

---