Chapter 23 Xavier
Declan cleans me up with surprising gentleness. I’m not ready for him to leave me. Somehow, I know that once the physical connection is gone, he will be too. Declan doesn’t seem like the cuddling type.
My mind is still fuzzy, my body loose and warm. Maybe this is the subspace I’ve read about. Whatever it is, I don’t want it to end yet.
“Don’t leave. Can you stay with me for a little while?”
I will beg if I have to. I want to be held.
He doesn’t answer right away, and my heart sinks.
Then he grips my waist and rolls us onto our sides.
His arms wrap around me, and he presses a kiss to my forehead.
I breathe in slowly, my body relaxing in a way it never has before.
The floaty feeling intensifies. Tears burn behind my eyes, but they don’t fall.
This is why I didn’t want Declan to sleep with me. I’m already getting attached. When he throws me away, it will hurt even more.
He kisses my hair again and tightens his arms around me. Soon this will end. I’m already mourning it.
“That was amazing, A Ghrá.”
I can only nod. If I try to speak, my voice will break.
“Xavier, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head. He slips out of me, and I squeeze my eyes shut. The bed shifts as he props himself over me, then gently turns me onto my back.
“Xavier, look at me.”
I don’t want to. I don’t want to see the hunger gone from his eyes now that he has what he wanted.
His hand settles at my throat, and I whimper. I’ve come to crave that touch. I always wanted a partner who could take control, but every time someone tried before, it felt forced. With Declan, it feels… natural.
“Look at me,” he says more quietly. “Tell me what I did wrong so I don’t do it again. I’ve never been with a man before. I need to know.”
I open my eyes and a tear slips free.
“Please, Xavier,” he says softly, brushing my hair back. “Tell me.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I whisper. “Everything was perfect.”
Then I ruin it.
“You got what you wanted. You’re done with me.”
“What?” His voice sharpens. “Xavier, look at me.”
I do.
“I’m not done with you. If anything, this…” He exhales, jaw tight. “This just made it worse. I’m not letting you go.”
I search his face for deception and only find certainty. I break and bury myself against his chest.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying. I’ve never cried after sex before.”
He pulls me closer.
“You didn’t ruin anything. That was the best experience of my life.”
I huff a small laugh. “Give me a minute before you want a repeat. You’re huge, and I’m going to be sore tomorrow.”
His expression softens slightly. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“No. It was… amazing.”
He lies back and keeps me half draped across him, my head on his chest.
“We should shower before we sleep.”
“I’m not sure my legs work.”
He huffs a quiet breath. “Then we’ll take a bath.”
Before I can argue, he lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bathroom. He sets me on the closed toilet lid and starts the water, pouring orange-scented Epsom salts into the tub. Then he presses a button on the wall.
“Is that a heated towel rack?”
“Yes. I didn’t want you getting cold.”
I smile, something inside me easing.
He checks the water, then carries me into the tub and sits with me between his legs. We soak in silence. It’s comfortable — not awkward — and that surprises me more than anything tonight.
He dries me with a warmed towel before drying himself. When I start toward the bedroom, he scoops me up again.
“You know I can walk.”
“I know.”
He sets me beside the bed and pulls back the covers. Anxiety hits hard. This is it. He’ll leave now.
I lie on my side, facing away from the door so I won’t have to watch him go.
The mattress dips behind me. Warmth presses against my back, and his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me close.
Relief floods through me so strongly it almost hurts. Maybe he means it. Maybe he actually wants me. Time will tell.
It’s my last thought before sleep takes me.