Page 49 of Until Forever Comes
“All right,” Miguel said eventually. “Bath time.” He squatted down and turned on the tap that came out of the wall on the side of the tub. He put his hand underneath the stream to check the temperature before standing back up. “Climb on in,” he said.
I did as he said and settled down on the hard surface, then immediately reached for the soap and began scrubbing myself clean.
Miguel toed off his shoes and then hooked his thumbs in the sides of his pants and pushed them down, exposing his torn-up legs.
I gasped in horror and dropped the soap. “Oh my Lord!” I shouted and reached for him.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Just a few scratches, and they’re already scabbing over.”
When he peeled his shirt off, I almost passed out. There didn’t seem to be a single bit of skin that wasn’t covered in deep, angry gashes. Those black clothes he favored must have hidden a lot of blood because my mate was much more hurt than I’d realized.
He climbed into the tub and the water immediately turned pink. I reached a trembling hand for the soap I’d dropped and hesitated.
“Will it hurt too much for me to wash you?” I asked.
“Nothing could ever hurt enough to make me turn down your touch,” he said.
Taking him at his word, I lathered up my hands and carefully ran them over his body and head, alternating handfuls of water with soap until his hair was silky and smooth and the water around us ran clear.
“The water’s still warm,” Miguel said. “I can plug the drain and fill the tub if you want to sit here for a bit.”
“That’d be right nice,” I told him.
Once he had the plug in the drain, he relaxed back against the tub, spread his legs wide, and held his arms open. “C’mere,” he said.
I turned around and scooted until my back was pressed against his chest.
“This doesn’t hurt you, does it?” I asked.
He wrapped his arms around my chest and pulled me tighter.
“Uh-uh,” he said and nuzzled my neck. Then he stiffened and I could hear a rumble in his broad chest. “I can smell him on you.” Anger laced his words.
“I washed real good,” I told him.
“Doesn’t matter. He’s still there, under the skin.”
My heart raced and my breathing quickened. I didn’t want anyone but my mate under my skin. “Get him out, Miguel.” I dropped my head back on his shoulder and rested my arms over his. “I need you.”
He moved his big hands down my chest, over my belly, across my groin, and over to my thighs. “You’re not hurt, right?”
I dropped my knees to the sides and canted my hips up, giving him better access. “Not hurt. Promise,” I whispered.
He cupped my testicles with one hand and wrapped the other around my hard length. Then he fondled and stroked me as he licked and sucked at my neck, pulling the blood close to the surface.
“Ungh,” I moaned and thrust up into his fist. He scraped his fangs against my neck and tightened his hand around my testicles. “Please,” I cried.
His response was immediate. Sharp teeth sank into my skin, and that magnificent feeling of blood being pulled from my veins overtook me.
“Yessss,” I hissed. I reached my hand back over my shoulder and gripped his hair, holding his head in place so he wouldn’t stop feeding from me. “Feels so good.”
My vampire didn’t answer with words. Instead, he sucked and swallowed, caressed and stroked, and then, just when I was sure I’d explode from the pleasure, he pulled his mouth back and licked at my neck.
“He’s all gone,” he said, his voice rough with a new kind of need.
I scrambled to turn off the tap. Then I got onto my knees, gripped the side of the tub with both hands, and lowered my head and shoulders. I spread my legs and tilted my hips so that my backside was raised and spread, the invitation clear.
Wet fingers skated reverently over my crease, and then I felt Miguel’s long hair tickle my legs an instant before his tongue swiped over my sensitive skin.
