Page 22 of Wounded Mate
He means for me to sit for the wash. “I can stand.”
“Don’t be silly. The chair can get wet. Wood dries. And I want you relaxed.”
I do as he bids, both eager and nervous to put myself in his capable hands. This could last all of thirty seconds and be quite embarrassing if I’m not careful.
He washes me first, wetting the bandages enough they slip off easily under the warm water. He widens his eyes. “Bela, look.”
The wounds are much improved. Instead of an angry red around the edges, they’re light pink. The remainder of the honey poultice is encrusted in a new, healthy scab, and the stitches have all but disappeared under a delicate layer of new skin.
“How?” he whispers, voice laced with awe.
Wolves are quick healers, but even I’m impressed with the progress. “I think resting in the arms of my mate has a lot to do with it. That and the care your friends took with me. Rizpah’s ministrations, the herbs.”
“Wow.” He runs the wash rag gently over my side, rinsing away the sticky honey. I relish the fact that I will soon smell like him, of rose oil and lavender soap, and the thought brings joy.
His path continues down my abdomen, over my sensitive places. My body throbs beneath his caring touch, but he doesn’t linger. Rather, he moves on, removing dirt and grime from my legs, leaving me feeling clean and all the more desperate for him because of it.
A sense of peace and gratitude fills my chest to bursting. Never did I imagine such sweet care as the attention Valius showers on me so willingly. I vow to myself to always provide the same for him.
When my skin is rinsed, he tilts his head and trails fingers through my fur. “And this? Shall I wet it too?”
“There isn’t enough water, I don’t think. I usually bathe in the river. But if you have a brush?”
“Ah.” He rises, grinning. “I do. And I would love to brush your beautiful fur. After.”
“After?”
He sets the cloth aside and lays his soapy, wet hands on my knees. “After.” His gaze darkens as he presses, encouraging me to open them.
Fire blazes where he touches me. I’m powerless to resist. Not that I’d want to. Moons no. I spread my legs, and he kneels between them, mouth open.
I’m well on my way to embarrassing myself, and he hasn’t even begun.
“Bela, relax. I’m going to suck you, and all you need to do is put your hands on my horns and show me how you like it. Does that sound like fun?”
Fun?
That sounds like paradise, like pleasure I’ve never known before, like maybe I did actually die the other night and this is the afterlife for me to bask in. “I’m not going to last.”
“No need to. Don’t hold back. I’m dying to taste you.”
My cock twitches at his words. It’s as eager as I am for Valius’s touch.
He half grins, half smirks, then dives in tongue first, swiping a long lick up the underside to my crown, pausing to tease that spot just beneath, the spot that drives me wild.
How could he know?
But of course he must be talented at this act. His very nature demands it. And how lucky am I to be the benefactor of such skill and practice?
It’s so good I struggle to sit still.
He leans back and stares up at me. “Well?”
I’m dumbstruck, admiring his beauty. His wet lips and sparking blue eyes.
He wiggles his head and arches his brows. “My horns, Bela. Guide me.”
Oh!Oh.
