Gently, Don dragged his black-scaled tongue over my first split knuckle, and I whimpered. Eyes moving to me, he continued to bathe the injuries so softly. Under his ministrations my body came alive and tingles, like little shocks of electricity, flitted through my veins and made my heart stumble in my chest.
There was no rush or impatience in his steady movements as Don thoroughly cleaned each wound with painstakingly slow movements. His tongue dragged over me and stole all rational thought until I was panting and whining under his delicate touch.
“Donny,” I whispered, my voice one millimeter away from begging.
“What?” he asked.
“Don’t stop.”
The slightest quirk pulled at the corner of his lips, and I moaned. Fuck, I loved that small smile. Don dragged his tongue over my middle knuckle. “I wasn’t planning to, not until you’re clean.”
I would never be clean.
He growled, no more than a rumble in his chest. “You are perfect.”
I scoffed. “I’m an asshole.”
Don kissed my damaged knuckle and repeated, “You are perfect.”
When he said it, I almost believed him.
The metal taste of Vince’s blood was still on my tongue as I escorted him to the medbay. He hadn’t wanted to go for his hands, though they did need treatment, but to finish his round of injections for the disease he’d contracted during his enslavement. Vince had asked me to accompany him, his eyes down and body stiff. I’d accepted, of course; nothing in the universe would’ve pulled me from his side.
Vince walked beside me, so small compared to me, but there was an unbreakable will inside of him that was alluring. He was strong, yet fragile. The dichotomy was interesting to watch and sense. His mind was focused on his aching hands, though beneath it was a void of darkness that was slowly consuming him. It was eating away at Vince, and I wished to rid him of it, but that wasn’t within my power.
People offered me their throats as we strode through the corridors of my ship. I acknowledged each of my subordinates, all while keeping a wary eye out for my brothers. They werealready seeing more into my and Vince’s friendship, and I didn’t want to give them more weapons against me.
I swallowed, savoring Vince’s taste on my tongue. I liked it, more than I would have thought. More concerning, my instincts demanded that I check his hands and clean them once more, even thoughI knewI’d been thorough. Vince needed medical assistance, not me, and yet, my instincts rebelled against such notions. He needed me. His wounds needed my tongue upon them.
When the medbay door appeared, I paused in my step. “I will remain here.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re going to hear anyway.”
“Yes, but…” Didn’t he desire privacy?
“Come on, Donny,” Vince ordered, and I followed him without question. My soul sped up. I would follow Vince anywhere.
Klars saw us almost instantly, his gray eyes locking onto Vince’s damaged hands before moving toward us. He demanded, “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Vince replied, brushing off the whole incident of me finding him incoherently beating his reflection to pieces.
“This,” the physician said, unexpectedly serious for once, “is not nothing.”
Vince glared at him. “I punched the mirror. It’s not a big deal.”
Klars released a long breath. “I am concerned about your mental health.”
“I’m fine,” Vince snapped, voice harsh. “It was a fucking mirror. It’s not a huge deal. I got pissed and I hit it. End of story.”
I pressed my lips together to remain silent. Vince had been utterly distraught, but it wasn’t my place to contradict him. So many choices had been ripped from him over the last two years, and he needed to make his own, even if I didn’t agree with them.
“I’m going to recommend you speak to someone.”
“No,” Vince replied, looking straight forward. “Can we get on with this?”
For the first time, Klars looked at me, but I didn’t react, though internally, I agreed—Vince needed help. This wound would fester until it was dealt with, but he was the only one who could choose to move forward. If Vince didn’t get better, Klars would report it to the Council of Seekers, but I wasn’t sure what they’d do. They might force Vince to do things he didn’t want, or they might respect his decision.
When I didn’t respond, Physician Klars moved toward the console to prepare what he needed to treat Vince.
