Chapter 18 - Vince #2
She was light in my arms but not weightless. I liked that. Liked feeling every ounce of my girl pressed to me. Blanket wrapped around her, cheek tucked against my neck, breath catching over and over like every step hurt and she was trying not to make it my problem.
Wrong.
Her pain was only my problem.
“Breathe for me, baby. In my ear. Nice and slow.”
She tried. I felt the stutter of it at my throat.
I sat her on the vanity for a second, keeping one hand on the back of her neck like I was afraid she’d tip forward and shatter.
Her arms folded tight around her ribs, knuckles white where they clutched the blanket. Just stared at the floor like it had betrayed her.
“Hey.” I crouched in front of her, one hand braced beside her knee, the other covering her fist. “Angel. Eyes on Daddy.”
It took a second, but she did it.
“I know this feels like too much. But I promise you, nothing in this room is going to hurt you.”
Her throat worked. “You’re not mad?”
Mad?
I was half a second away from declaring war on any god who thought they could put pain in her body without running it past me first.
“For what? Bleeding on my sheets because you gave me your first time?” My voice stayed soft, but something dark laced through it. “No, baby. I’m… proud.”
Proud didn’t even cover it. That word was too small. I was cracked open with it.
“Let me get you in the bath. It’ll help.”
She shook her head, just once. “You’ll see more.”
“More of my girl? More of the body I spent all night worshipping because you trusted me. Yeah, angel. I can survive that.”
She huffed. “You’re impossible.”
“Obsessed. Now, arms up for me.” I brushed my thumb over her knuckles.
I took the blanket off, and she tried to cross her arms; I gently caught her wrists, lowering them.
“Don’t hide from me. Daddy wants to see my perfect sub. All of you. Especially when you’re hurting.”
She held still, letting me look. I helped her stand, keeping one arm around her waist. She made a little sound when her feet hit the floor—too close to a whimper for my liking. My hand tightened.
“Tell me where it’s worst,”
She gestured vaguely. “Everywhere.”
“Good,”
Her head snapped up. “Good?”
“Means I get to fix everywhere. Instead of just one place.”
I stepped into the tub first, then guided her in, one careful leg at a time. She hissed when she tried to lower herself too fast.
“Easy.” I caught her under the thighs and hips, doing the work for her, easing her down until she was seated, water lapping high over her stomach. “There we go. That better?”
“It’s warm.”
“Exactly how I want you. Warm and relaxed and not thinking about anything except Daddy’s hands.”
Her cheeks flushed. She settled back against the edge, muscles tight with the effort of not tensing.
I moved behind her, sinking to my knees so I was taller, arms braced on either side before I slid one hand into the water to rest on her abdomen.
“Is this okay?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Words, baby,” I reminded gently. “You know the rules.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Every time she called me that, something in my chest snarled mine and refused to calm down.
I ran my hand over her stomach in slow circles.
“Breathe with me,” I leaned close enough that my mouth brushed her ear. “In… and out… nice and slow. That’s it. My good girl.”
She followed my pace, breath syncing with mine. When she’d evened out, I started washing her.
“You’re so good for me,” I murmured. “Letting me see you like this. Letting Daddy take care of my girl.”
“I don’t feel good. I feel… pathetic.”
I gritted my teeth for a second at the word. Pathetic was the last thing she was. Pathetic men didn’t get girls like this. Pathetic men didn’t get chosen for firsts.
“You feel vulnerable,” I corrected. “You feel sore. You feel like your body is telling the truth about what we did and you’re not used to anybody seeing the truth.” I let the cloth trail down her arm. “That makes you brave, angel. Not pathetic.”
She exhaled, shaky. “You’re very… intense.”
“Yeah. No point pretending otherwise. Tell me if anything spikes above a six,” I said quietly. “I want it manageable. Not heroic.”
She swallowed. “You and your numbers.”
“My numbers keep my girl safe.” I kissed the back of her shoulder, just once. “Your Dom watches the numbers. You don’t have to.”
I kept going. Down her ribs. Over her hips. The water shifted with each stroke, ripples chasing my fingers.
When I reached her thigh, she tensed.
“It’s worse there,” she whispered.
“Of course it is.” My voice stayed gentle even as my chest clenched. “That’s where you took me for the first time. That’s where you opened up for Daddy like a perfect, greedy little sub.” I let the pride bleed into the words. “You did so well, baby. Better than I had any right to expect.”
She made a strangled noise. “Don’t say it like that. I’ll die.”
“Say it like what?” I faked ignorance, even as I softened the cloth, barely skimming her skin. “Like I’m proud of you? Like you made me the luckiest bastard walking because you chose me for something you only had once to give?”
She covered her face with wet hands. “You’re going to make me cry again.”
“Cry if you need to. I’ll take every tear. I caused the soreness; I can carry the reaction.”
I washed the inside of her thighs with care. So fucking gentle. Nothing that would turn her on. This was about comfort. About honouring the fact that she’d said yes to me and paid for it in tenderness.
Every time her muscles twitched, I slowed, swore quietly under my breath at pain itself, then adjusted.
“You hear me, angel? There is no part of you that is ruined in my eyes. Not this.” Another soft pass of the cloth. “All I see is my girl. My perfect little sub who trusted me with her body and her heart at the same time.”
Her hands dropped from her face. Her eyes were shining again, but something steadier sat behind them now.
“You really mean that,” she said, like she hadn’t quite believed it until this second.
“I don’t waste words on you,”
She went quiet, letting me finish. Letting me tip a little water over her shoulders.
At some point, her head rested back against my thigh where I knelt. Trust, casual and unthinking. It hit me harder than any declaration.
She wasn’t dynasty bound yet. But she was bound to me. And as far as I was concerned, that outranked any codex.
“Daddy?” Her voice was small.
“Yeah, baby.”
“Why does it… bother you? That it hurts this much? You seem… more invested then I expected.”
“You’re pain…” I thought about lying. Then decided against it.
“It kills me. Every little flinch feels like someone took a swing at my chest. But I’d rather it be from me loving you open for the first time than from any other man using you wrong.
” I leaned closer, kissing her temple. “And I am going to spend every fucking day making sure that pain turns into nothing but good memories.”
She stared up at me, with an expression that was neither confusion.
Her breath hitched, but it wasn’t from the ache this time.
“Get used to it,” I murmured. “You agreed to be my sub, angel. You gave me your first. You don’t get a half-measured Daddy after that. You get all of it. Obsession included.”
A tiny laugh broke out of her, helpless and wrecked. “You’re insane.”
“For you? Completely.”
I gave her a few more minutes of silence, just the sound of the water and her breathing and my hands moving slow over her. When I was satisfied she’d relaxed as much as she was going to for now, I reached for the drain.
“Time to get you out. I want you dry, warm, and back in bed.”
She made a noise of protest. “I’ll drip.”
“You can drip on me. Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve soaked something that belongs to Daddy.”
Her head dropped forward with a mortified little groan that made me smile.
I stood and offered both hands. “Up.”
She put her palms in mine. I took her weight, lifting her gently to stand as the water slid off her skin. Her knees wobbled. I stepped in immediately, bracketing her with my body and a towel, wrapping her up before the air could make her shiver.
“Better?” I tucked the towel under her arms and around her back.
She nodded against my chest. “Yeah. It… helped.”
I pressed a kiss into her damp hair. “Good Girl. Daddy’s very proud of you.” I swept her off her feet again, one arm under her knees, the other around her back, and carried her out of the bathroom.
I dried her slow. Then I dropped the shirt over her head, easing her hands through the sleeves. Fabric fell around her like it had been cut for her, hanging off one shoulder, brushing mid-thigh.
My shirt. On my girl. Something primal in my chest smoothed out.
A sigh slipped past her lips. “You know you’re not getting this one back, right?”
My mouth curved. “You’ve said that about the last three.”
“Well, whose fault is that?” Her fingers tugged gently at the hem, testing the give. “Stop dressing me in your favorites.”
God, I loved when she claimed things like that—like there was no universe where I’d argue. “I’ll consider it when you stop looking better in them than I ever did.”
A small scoff escaped her. The laugh broke halfway into a wince, hand flying to her side.
Every muscle in me locked. Instinct, training, Crow. Assess. Protect. Eliminate threat.
“Pain?”
“Really fucking bad.” She tried to shake it off like it was nothing, like she wasn’t still sore. That settled it. The decision dropped through me like a stone.
“Then you’re not leaving this bed again.”
“You can’t be smug about that.”
I couldn’t help the small brush of my mouth against her cheek, breathing her in. “Wasn’t planning to be. But I’ll take the win.”