Page 68 of The Forgery Mate


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The temperature is perfect, set to soothe the burn of fever without sending me too far in the other direction. I let the wall take my weight with a groan, wondering why I hadn’t done this hours ago.

Ezra strips and sets his clothes on a clear spot on the counter before he joins me under the spray.

The shower is barely large enough for one, let alone two grown men, but Ezra creates space where none exists. With gentle hands, he lathers soap across my skin, washing away the dried blood from my cuts, paint from my angry creation, charcoal from my attempt to understand him. My nipples harden under his attention, body responding even to this businesslike touch.

His fingers trace the contours of my body with careful attention, lingering over scrapes and bruises but never causingpain. The intimacy of being bathed by another person, byhim, sends waves of heat cascading through me. Slick leaks down the backs of my thighs, my body preparing itself for what it desperately wants.

Ezra’s nostrils flare as the scent of my arousal cuts through the stream of water and soap, but he continues his methodical cleaning, refusing to be rushed.

“Your Heat came early,” he observes as he washes my hair, fingers massaging my scalp with hypnotic pressure.

“Because of you.” I moan, arching toward him, but despite the tight confines of the shower, his body remains frustratingly distant. “Because of this.”

His hands pause before resuming their gentle circles. “I’m glad.”

“Thought you’d want to fuck me the moment you arrived.” I squeeze my aching dick, trying to find some relief. “Given the state I’m in.”

“I do.” He pulls my hand away before resuming his careful work. “But I want you clean first, so I can lick every inch of you.”

I whimper, rubbing my ass against the wall, but the flat surface does nothing for the empty ache inside. “Ezra?—”

He must deem me clean enough, because Ezra turns off the water and reaches for a towel. He dries me with the same deliberate care he used to wash me, each touch stoking the fire building in my blood.

By the time he finishes, I tremble from need. My Heat pulses in my hips, fresh slick replacing what he washed away. Ezra’s pupils are blown, his control intact but fraying under the strain of his hunger.

He lifts me again and finally carries me from the bathroom to my bed.

20

The sheets on my bed are rumpled from restless nights, and he places me in the center. The towel falls open, exposing me to his hungry gaze.

“Perfect,” he breathes, the word caressing my heated skin.

He joins me on the bed, covering my body with his larger frame. The weight of him anchors me as another wave of Heat washes through me, turning my bones to liquid.

His mouth finds mine in a slow, gentle kiss before it deepens, tongue sliding past my lips to taste me. He maps my body with his hands, greedy to relearn my curves and planes, finding new hollows where stress and poor nutrition have reshaped me.

“Ren,” he whispers, the first time he’s spoken my name since arriving.

No aliases. No personas. Just me.

He kisses a path down my throat, lingering where his collar once sat. His tongue traces my collarbone, teeth scraping across my nipple until I arch beneath him. Each touch is precise, intentional, drawing responses from my body I couldn’t hide if I tried.

His mouth continues its journey downward, tongue dipping into my navel before reaching the aching hardness between my thighs. When his lips close around me, the wet warmth of his mouth almost sends me over the edge. I clutch at his shoulders, at the sheets, seeking purchase in a world reduced to sensation.

“Alpha—“ I gasp, hips rocking in helpless pleasure.

He hums around me, sucking my dick deeper as his hand slides beneath me, fingers slipping through the slick gathering there, circling my entrance with gentle pressure. When one finger pushes inside, meeting no resistance from my Heat-ready body, my vision whites out.

My first orgasm hits without warning, back bowing off the bed with pleasure. Ezra works me through it, swallowing around me until I tremble with oversensitivity.

When he releases me, he moves lower, lifting my legs onto his shoulders, and his tongue replaces his fingers between my ass cheeks. His gaze holds mine as he tastes me there, tongue pushing past my loose ring of muscles, licking my inner channel.

I moan, unable to look away as he feasts on me.

Ezra’s tongue delves deeper, sending electric currents up my spine. My thighs tremble around his head, my body no longer mine to control as each lick over my sensitive inner walls draws broken whimpers from me that echo in the open loft. His groans vibrate into my most intimate place, the pleasure of tasting me evident in every hungry thrust of his tongue.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groans between swipes, his fingers digging into the flesh of my ass to spread me wider. “Could feast on you for hours.”