Nolan was unsure. He tried to hide his insecurity in front of her, I’d noticed, but he didn’t have the same qualms about being vulnerable with me. I gestured him closer and began to undress him as the shower began to steam up the room. “Get in,” I said, stripping my own clothes.
“You first.”
He watched as I undressed, staring unfocused at me. He’d seen me naked before, but I’d been crazed and starving. I had to imagine the image was different now.
Stepping under the spray of shower water I rinsed myself off, pink water swirling down the drain. When I vacated the path of the spray and he got into the stall with me, I couldn’t resist the urge to plant a soft kiss on top of my mark on his neck. He shivered, letting out a quiet groan. “Are you going to clean me?” he asked with a grin. “I don’t want to be covered in someone else’s blood while we fuck.”
“It’s surprisingly sexy to have you covered in blood,” I said, reaching over to grab a cloth and some soap from the side. “But I agree. I’d prefer to be able to smell your sweet pastry scent.”
I started with his legs, kneeling on the floor of the shower stall. It was the second time I’d been on my knees for him. The first, we’d been too frantic for either of us to enjoy this position. This time, my gaze met his and I saw a flash of feral arousal. One of his hands landed on my head, not grabbing, just resting.
There wasn’t much blood down here, only a few speckles where his lower legs had been exposed by the shorts. Most of the blood was on his torso, arms, and head. I worked my way up, rising higher on my knees as my soapy cloth slid up his torso and chest. He hissed when I avoided his cock but rubbed his nipples, his fingers finally grabbing my hair and yanking me up.
“Give me that. It’s your turn.”
He took the cloth, but he didn’t get down to his knees. My lower body wasn’t too messy, considering I hadn’t actively participated in the torture. He soaped up my forearms and chest, playing with my nipples more roughly than I’d handled his.
I groaned, tilting my head back. My cock was rock hard, bobbing up against my stomach. We were close together, but not close enough for it to slide deliciously across his skin. When he dipped the cloth down to brush the top of my ass, I sucked in a sharp breath. I wanted him to go further down, brush the fabric against my hole, but he didn’t.
I buried my face against his neck as he pulled the cloth across my back. Licking my bite mark, I groaned when I could scent him properly again, overlaid with the vanilla soap. He moaned, dropping the cloth to the slippery shower floor and pushing away from me.
“We’re done in here,” he said.
He yanked the shower handle to the off position, stepping out and tossing a towel in my direction. I dried myself, staring as he did the same. When I dropped the towel to the ground outside the stall, he turned on his heel and stalked out to the bedroom.
His bedroom had surveillance videos up on multiple screens, with the two main ones housing a view of the suite we stayed in and the cell Freya had originally been held in. I’d seen them before when I’d spent time in here as a cat, but he hurried to turn them off as if this was new information to me. “Freya knew about them the whole time,” he said.
I laughed. “I know. Remember?”
He bit his lip. “Fuck. I guess you do know. About a lot of things. I wasn’t expecting you to turn into a man.”
“I could talk to Freya the whole time, but I’ll say I wasn’t expecting to turn into a man either.”
Without waiting for him, I crawled onto his bed. My short, wet curls dripped on the duvet, but we’d be covering it in all sorts of bodily fluids soon so it hardly mattered. Nolan watched me, his lower body covered by terrycloth, until I gestured him over.
He dropped the towel and I groaned.
His body was so fucking perfect. The freckles spanning from his cheeks down his chest and arms, the ginger hair framing his cock. His slim torso and legs, perfect for a speed-focused approach to fighting, or the long-distance methods he seemed to employ when he was doing an assassination. It had been thrilling to see him in his glory during the torture. Freya was sexy too, but I’d seen her do it so many times the freshness had worn off and I just worried about her tendency to put herself in unnecessary danger.
“Come here,” I said, my voice husky. He hesitated, his earlier urgency fading. “Please.”
The bed dipped when he crawled on, his body coming to rest between my legs. I wrapped my legs around his hips and he groaned, toppling forward to rest on my chest. He was hardly touching me.
“I think this is the wrong position,” Nolan murmured, kissing my chest. “Shouldn’t we be flipped?”
“Do you not want to fuck me? I mean, I’m happy to fuck you, but this is more what I was envisioning,” I said.
He lifted his head. “Wait, what? You’re the Alpha. I’m a Beta.”
I’d figured out why he was hesitant to touch me first. He thought I wanted to be in charge. I almost snorted out loud, but didn’t want to make him feel bad about his assumption. Plenty of Alphas would never let a Beta have any sort of power over them.
“Me being an Alpha has nothing to do with my preference for being pounded into the mattress,” I said, kissing his forehead. “We can do it the other way if you prefer to bottom.”
“No,” Nolan said, shaking his head. “I prefer to top. I just thought…”
“That I was a macho Alpha asshole? I can’t blame you. Being this bulky, I look like one.”
His cheeks flamed. “No, I…”
