Chapter 24
Rowan’s breath warms the back of my neck as I slide the key into the lock on my apartment door, only to find it already dark.
It’s a little past eight at night, so Lena should still be doing homework, but when we pause, listening for any sound from her room, only silence greets us.
“She must have gone to bed early,” I whisper. “We’ll have to wait until morning to talk to her.”
I leave my shoes at the door and pad toward the hallway bathroom, Rowan trailing behind me, his footsteps silent on the floor, avoiding all the places that creak as if he memorized them the last time he was here.
We pass Lena’s closed bedroom door, the gap at the bottom showing only darkness, and a familiar protectiveness pauses my steps.
I hold up a hand for Rowan to wait and crack open her door far enough to double-check that there’s a sister-sized lump in her bed.
Her quiet snore eases the tension from my body, and I close the door again before I continue down the hall.
The bathroom door squeaks when I push it open, and I wince at the sound. Rowan’s hand settles on my lower back, guiding me inside before closing the door behind us with care.
Under the harsh fluorescent light, the bathroom’s flaws stand out in stark relief. The chipped blue tiles from the seventies, a sink with rust stains around the drain, and a shower stall designed for only one person.
The contrast with his marble-tiled bathroom hits harder now, with him standing here amid the peeling wallpaper and water spots on the ceiling.
“Sorry about…” I gesture at the cramped space.
Rowan steps closer, his fingers finding the buttons of my shirt. Blood from the guard still darkens my sleeve as proof of what I did to protect him.
His pupils expand as he finds the stain, his thumb brushing over it with reverence rather than disgust.
“Shower,” he murmurs, gravel-rough with desire. “Now.”
Water sputters from the showerhead, running cold, then lukewarm, before heating.
Steam rises in thin wisps that curl around our bodies as we undress, and I can’t stop myself from staring at the muscled expanse of Rowan’s bare chest and the fading marks I left on him during our last night together before I walked out.
He steps into the stall first, water sluicing down the planes of his body, and beckons for me to join him.
The glass door closes, sealing us in a pocket of steam and heat.
Our bodies slide together by necessity, wet skin slippery.
The top of my head reaches his chin, his bulk taking up most of the available space.
Rowan’s hands move over me, his fingers trailing down my arms, my chest, lingering on the purple mark he left on my collarbone. His touch sets my sleet-chilled skin on fire, igniting nerves I’ve spent a week trying to numb.
“Turn around,” he orders into my ear so his deep rumble doesn’t carry through the thin walls.
I comply, bracing my palms on the wet tiles as the spray hits my back. His fingers dig into the knots of tension between my shoulder blades, working down my spine. Then he lathers soap across my skin, washing away the evidence of the night’s work.
As he rinses away the suds, his touch changes, his hands sliding lower to grip my hips with bruising force, and he drops to his knees on the hard porcelain.
My breath catches as I understand his intent.
Water streams over us as his mouth finds the small of my back, tongue tracing the knobs of my spine downward.
My fingers curl, nails scraping the ceramic tiles as he spreads my cheeks open.
The first touch of his tongue at my entrance tears a gasp from my lips that echoes in the small space.
His grip tightens in warning. Lena’s room sits right next door, and the apartment’s paper-thin walls do nothing to block sound.
I bite down on my knuckle as he circles my rim with teasing flicks, my body responding with a rush of slick that mingles with the shower spray.
His satisfied rumble vibrates against my delicate flesh, the Alpha pheromones he releases filling the steamy air and wrapping around me like another layer of heat.
The steam fills my lungs, each breath heavy with moisture and the copper tang of the blood we’ve washed away, the clean bite of soap, and beneath it all, the earthy musk of arousal.
Rowan’s tongue breaches me, pushing past the tight ring of muscle, and my teeth sink deeper into my knuckle to trap the whine threatening to spill out.
When my knees threaten to buckle, his hands anchor me, one palm sliding up to splay across my stomach, holding me steady while the other grips my hip hard enough to leave marks. The slight pain grounds me, keeping me from floating away on waves of pleasure as his tongue burrows deeper.
Water hits the back of Rowan’s head, streaming over him as he devours me. The obscene, wet sounds of his mouth working at my slick entrance blend with the patter of the shower, creating a symphony of need for my ears alone. My hard dick hugs my stomach, untouched but leaking pre-cum.
A whimper escapes despite my best efforts, and Rowan responds by sucking on my entrance hard enough to send sparks shooting up my spine. His free hand slides between my legs to wrap around my length, stroking in time with the thrusts of his tongue.
The dual assault floods my senses. The confined space amplifies the slick heat of my body opening for him, the water cascading over us both, his possessive grip marking ownership into my flesh, and the desperate sounds I muffle with my fist.
My forehead drops to the cool tile as tension coils at the base of my spine. Rowan’s hand speeds up, twisting at the head of my dick with each upstroke while his mouth continues its relentless assault.
Pressure builds until I can’t contain it, and my release hits without warning, painting the shower wall in white streaks for the water to wash away. My body convulses around Rowan’s tongue, internal muscles pulsing as waves of pleasure crash through me.
Rowan rises behind me, his hard length rubbing against the small of my back. His arms wrap around me, holding me upright as aftershocks ripple through my body. His teeth find my shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave an impression as the water begins to cool.
“Let me take you to bed,” he whispers into my ear, thick with need.
“Yeah.” I reach past him to shut off the water. “I need that.”
We stumble out of the shower, having enough presence of mind to wrap towels around our wet bodies before we stumble out into the hall, dripping water the entire way.
I fumble with the bedroom door, pushing it open into darkness broken only by silver moonlight filtering through cracked blinds. Rowan’s hands never leave my body, tracing patterns of want across my damp skin as we cross the threshold into my territory, where no Alpha has entered before.
My bedroom sits in stark contrast to the luxury of Rowan’s apartment.
A twin mattress occupies most of the available floor space, its metal frame dented from years of use.
Clothes hang from a rack in the corner, with no closet to contain them.
The nightstand holds only a lamp missing its shade, a dog-eared paperback, and the clock radio I’ve relied on since high school.
The walls bear no decorations, no personality, a room for survival, not living.
Rowan takes it all in with a single sweep of his amber stare before he drops his towel to the floor and turns to me, moonlight carving shadows into the valleys of his muscles. In this tiny room, he appears even larger, a force of nature that can’t be contained in such a small a space.
He beckons to me. “Come here.”
The distance vanishes, and his mouth claims mine, hungry and demanding, as my back hits the wall beside my bedroom door.
My towel joins his on the floor, leaving nothing but heat and want.
His hands grip beneath my thighs, lifting me as if I weigh nothing, and I wrap my legs around his waist by instinct.
Three steps carry us to the bed. We crash onto the narrow mattress, the frame creaking in immediate protest. Rowan pins me beneath him, his larger body covering mine, caging me with his arms on either side of my head.
The wet heat of his cock presses to the groove of my hip, leaving slick trails across my skin.
“You protected me tonight,” Rowan breathes against my throat, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin above my pulse. “Do you know what that did to me? Seeing you move so fast, so lethal? My perfect Omega, drawing blood to keep me safe.”
Heat floods my cheeks at the praise. My fingers trace the muscles of his back, mapping territory I thought I’d surrendered when I walked away last week.
“You were magnificent,” he continues, his mouth trailing fire down my chest. “That blade in your hand was like an extension of your body. The way you never hesitated. So fucking hot, precious.”
The praise washes over me, settling deep in places starved for recognition. Not for my submission, not for my willingness to be controlled, but for my strength. My capability. The dark parts of me I’ve kept hidden from the world, only coming out to protect the ones I love.
Rowan shifts lower, his broad hands sliding beneath my knees, pushing them up and out until I lie open before him.
The cool air of the bedroom raises goose bumps across my bare skin, a contrast to the heat building within me.
Slick gathers at my entrance, glistening in the moonlight that spills across the bed.
“Look at you,” Rowan rasps, sinking into an Alpha register that vibrates through my bones. “So wet for me already. Your body knows who it belongs to.”
His cock lines up at my entrance, the blunt head rubbing without penetrating. The anticipation builds as he holds himself there, teasing both of us with what’s to come. My hands fist in the sheets, bracing for the inevitable.