Page 256 of Satan's Spawn
“One more minute before I’m in there fucking you.” Said Royal grumbles.
“Seriously?” I squeak, blind and fighting off the water streaming down my face. “Neanderthal much?”
“Thirty seconds.” Crayton adds. “The belt is coming off.”
Hm. This could be fun. Except no it won’t.
“I have my damn period, Crayton, and excruciating cramps, so don’t even try it.”
“Shit.” He grunts. “Red wings are the only ones I’ll ever earn, anyway.”
As much as I love a good kinky fuckfest…
I draw the line at period blood.
I can barely tolerate how gross it is myself, the last thing I want is my boyfriend poking around down there and realizing how nasty it is too.
None of this matters because Crayton is already pulling the glass door open, sending the chill of the bathroom barging in to prickle my skin.
“Asshole!” I shout when he wraps his arms around me, spinning me until my back is pressed against the tile.
Crayton looks at me with his signature fierce glare, streaming water glistening down his face like an angry God.
“What was that?” He draws closer. “In your asshole?”
I gulp as he continues to burn a hole through me, wondering if I did something to actually piss him off.
A squeal burst from my lips when he starts tickling my sides, making me feel better and worse all at the same time.
“Quit it! I’m gonna slip.”
Crayton releases me so he can pull his t-shirt over his head, exposing every bit of ink painted on his skin. “That was your punishment for taking so long.”
“Yeah, well, it’ll take a hell of a lot longer with your enormous body taking up the shower.”
After throwing the shirt over the door, Crayton reaches for the conditioner in the hanging caddy, squeezing some onto his hand.
“Turn around,” he instructs with a quick lift of his chin.
My back is to him when he starts massaging the product into my hair.
“What are you doing?” I grin ear to ear, still getting surprised by his gentle side.
“What the fuck does it look like? I’m washing you.”
Okay, so maybe gentle is still a work in progress.
I suppress a chuckle. “You’re gonna get orange all over your hands.”
Running his fingers through the length, Crayton states, “Some red too, apparently.”
I look down at the blood tinged water draining at our feet. “I warned you, it’s all yuck.”
His lips brush over my shoulder, fingers caressing the length of my forearms. “A little blood never scared me, Little Ghost.” A palm presses against my tender abdomen, running circles around it. “Tell me where it hurts.”
I melt into Crayton’s chest, his touch alone being enough to thwart the ache. “Just beneath my belly button.”
Crayton slides his thumbs a bit higher, getting to work on soothing my cramps with firm strokes of his fingers.
