36. Julian
I’d said it as a joke, or mostly as a joke. Would I have loved to shower with Wren? Duh, but did I ever expect her to agree to it right now?
Never.
Which is why I nearly trip over my own feet when she says the next four words.
“A shower sounds nice.”
Truer words have never been spoken. I stand frozen in shock as she pulls her now-ruined shirt up over her head before pushing her leggings down and off, kicking them aside.
Her bra and panties are both black and basic, but against her fair skin, they almost look exotic, even with her back to me.
Wren is always beautiful, but right now…
I stand captivated as all the blood in my head runs south, and I worry that maybe this wasn’t my best idea.
She takes a step toward the shower before she shakes her head and, with a loud sigh, turns to face me.
My eyes roam over her greedily, trying to commit every bit of her to memory, only to feel like I hit a brick wall as I really see her.
Her stomach and upper thighs are covered in marks, some small and hardly visible, others… way too thick.
It takes my mind much longer than it should to piece everything together, but when I look up and find Wren’s gaze far away, it clicks.
Scars.
She’s covered in scars.
Rage fills me. I’m seconds from demanding she tell me who did this so that I can kill them before I remind myself that this isn’t the time for that.
Wren showed me her scars. That wasn’t something she did by accident; no, this was a choice, and one that I’m sure she didn’t make easily.
I can kill people for her later; right now, I simply want to bask in her presence.
“Gods, you're fucking beautiful,” I tell her, the words that I’d been thinking because why the hell not.
Something tells me she doesn’t hear them nearly enough, and judging by the way her head snaps up, eyes locking with mine, I’d say I need to start saying them more often.
“Do you think…” she trails off, fidgeting with her fingers as she chews on her bottom lip, and I can’t keep the smile off my lips as I watch her.
“Yes?” I try to encourage her, curious as all hell about what she’s going to ask.
“Would you be willing to help me?” She peeks up through her lashes. She could have just asked me to give her every drop of my magic, and I’m almost positive I would have agreed, but this…
“It would be my pleasure.” The answer rolls off my tongue more easily than my own name. I don’t hesitate. Reaching up, I pull my shirt ?over my head, letting it drop on the ground by my feet.
One of my favorite things about Wren is that you can read every emotion on her face; she’s an open book, and fuck me if the way she’s reacting doesn’t stroke my ego and my fucking cock.
I have her full attention as I move to unbutton my pants, her eyes tracking my movements as if she can’t get enough. I might move slower just to tease her, but she doesn’t seem to mind. I hear her breath hitch when I push them down, letting them pool on the floor at my feet.
There’s no hiding the effect she has on me now. Not that I could much before; if she had looked, it would have been obvious, but now…
Her eyes go almost comically wide, and her mouth drops open before she spins back around and scrambles back toward the shower.
I’m tempted to take my boxers off, but I don’t want to actually break her, and given the way she just reacted, that definitely would.
“Why are there so many knobs?” I walk into the shower stall and can’t help but smile as she fumbles around.
This shower is a lot more complicated than it needs to be; one of the few perks Nolan gets from being the dean's son is that he got the best room. Though I’m sure that has more to do with keeping up appearances than him actually giving a fuck about Nolan.
“Like this.” I step up behind her, reaching around her to flick two knobs and push a button. The water usually comes from the ceiling and walls, but for this, the handle seems like a better idea.
I hear her heart as it beats at nearly double time, the only other sound being the water and our breathing.
We're close, so close I can feel the warmth of her skin. The urge to reach out and touch her is so powerful that I have to fist my hand to ensure I don’t.
She asked me for help, and while I’m sure that’s not all she wanted, I want that to be her choice.
I want her to come to me.
We stand there for so long that I’m second-guessing if I read this situation wrong before she finally whips around, craning her head back so that our gazes meet.
Her eyes are wide and so fucking uncertain, as if she can’t fathom that I might want this, want her, and I fold.
I lean in, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her close. I thread my fingers through her hair, not caring if they end up purple.
Worth it.
She melts into me, her lips parting when I run my tongue along her bottom lip, and I groan as the taste of her explodes in my mouth. Just as sweet as her scent, yet somehow my memory didn’t do her justice. I suddenly feel like I’ve been starving without her.
She moans and whimpers. Every sound makes me impossibly harder, my throbbing cock pressing into her stomach, begging for more. Unable to resist, I unwrap my arm from her back to touch her, trailing my fingers up her waist.
The skin on her stomach is soft despite the scars, but I know they're there, and when she jumps at the contact, I know without her telling me that's why.
“Shhh, I’ve got you,” I whisper against her lips as my fingers trail lower. Her eyes slowly pull open to look up at me, dazed and drunk off our kiss.
There’s so much trust there, something I’m not sure I deserve, but fuck, I want to.
I pull back enough to free her lips but can’t go far. I just want to hear her.
Her breathing gets faster as I reach the edge of her underwear, and I might enjoy it a little too much, running my finger along the top a few times as I decide how to proceed.
She makes the choice for me when her hand reaches out, her fingers trailing up my leg before she brushes against my hard length. I swear I’ve never been so close from so little.
Dipping my fingers into her panties, I find her dripping wet, and I bite down hard on my lip to stop myself from losing my glamour as my power surges.
I’m so glad we did this before we stepped into the water; knowing how much I turn her on, that I make her this wet, that will live in my head rent-free for the rest of my eternal life.
I gather her wetness, rubbing at her clit and making her whimper as her eyes pinch closed, and her mouth drops open. Her hand becomes a little more sure, wrapping around my length, or maybe it’s just because she can’t overthink as much now.
Slowly, so that she can stop me if she wants, I move to her opening, and this time I can’t bite back the groan or the way my magic surges that rushes from me when she opens her legs wider in a very clear invitation.
She’s going to either be the death of me or the reason I end up locked up.
Either is fine so long as she keeps making these noises and looking at me like that.
She whimpers and gasps as I slowly work one finger into her. If I’d been unsure if she was a virgin or not before, I’m certain of it now. Her pussy grips my finger tight enough that I’m grateful we aren’t fucking because I would have never lasted.
I stay still, letting her adjust for as long as she needs, unwilling to hurt her or make this anything but amazing for her.
“Julian.” My name has never sounded so good as it does coming from her mouth, a whispered plea for more that I’m happy to answer.
I move slowly, pulling out and pumping back in, feeling her adjust, watching her eyes roll back, and her chest rise and fall faster with every pump of my finger.
Her pussy is greedy, holding me tight and soaking me in all the best ways, and I fight the desire to taste her, devour her.
There’s plenty of time for that, for everything, but right now I just want to make her feel good.
“Fuck, babe, you're so wet. Your pussy is so perfect, the way it grips me. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.”
She shatters, her eyes screw shut, and she tosses her head back with a scream as her hand tightens around my cock, her slow, uncertain pumps forgotten.
I come with her; the feeling of her pussy and her reaction already had me so close, but her hand wrapped around me, even with the thin layer of fabric between us, pushes me over the edge I’ve been teetering on.
I work her through her orgasm, and I’m tempted to see if I can pull one more from her, until I see the purple stain on her forehead.
Oops.
With her eyes still closed, I flick my wrist and magically remove it. Illegal still, yes, but I can’t bring myself to care right now.
Her eyes blink open, slow and lazy, as if she'd just taken the best nap of her life, and when she looks up at me, I see how tired she is.
Your first orgasm really takes it out of you, not that I remember mine; it was so long ago now, but I can assume.
“Hey,” I say, my voice husky from lust, and even though she’s so worn out, her pupils still blow wide.
“Hi.”
Fuck, I love a sex husky voice. Titus’s already gruff tone always makes me swoon, but Wren’s…
My cock throbs to life, and her eyes dart down to where her hand is still pressed to the thin fabric.
“That was quick,” she says, cocking her head to the side to get a better look, and yup, that will do it; I’m hard again.
My cock is so sensitive right now that every touch is like a shock to my system as I bite back moans and groans to let her have a minute; that is, until she reaches the tip.
She pauses, and I watch her brows pull together.
“A piercing love.”
Her head snaps up so fast I fear she might have hurt herself, but she seems fine other than her wide, confused eyes.
“What?”
“Another time,” I wave her off, and, with all the control I have, move her hand off of my cock so that I can turn her toward the shower spray.
Unable to resist, I press my finger into my mouth, and the groan that is ripped from me is beyond my control.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, looking my way, but I shake my head, pulling my finger from my mouth despite wanting to do anything but.
“Nothing, let’s get this color out before you really are my purple Pookie,” I tease her, and when she rolls her eyes, I lean in and press my lips to hers, making her lips pull up in a smile.
I want her to smile like that all the time, and if I have to kiss her more to do it…
Well, that’s a sacrifice I can get behind, literally.
The water is cold, and she groans and grumbles as I wash out the purple and condition it, but she’s not fooling me; I can see how much she loves it.
I’ve never been the one to pamper; Titus has always spoiled me, but I can’t say I hate it. In fact, I might suggest we shower together more often. After all, we can keep each other warm and save the fishes or whatever it is mortals always say.
Once her hair is handled, I grab a clip and throw it up, then adjust the temperature and let her rinse it down. The purple left a slight tint behind, but it seems to mostly go away with a little soap and warm water, which is good because I’ve been about two seconds from magically handling it.
I watch as she scrubs at her back, unable to reach all of it, and while I’d planned to stay away, I can’t help but step in.
Any excuse I can get to touch her works for me.
“Let me help.” She smiles up at me over her shoulder with a mumbled thanks, and yeah, I could get used to this, to her.
Or maybe I already have.