Celina
SEVENTEEN
Dinnertime had been a negotiation. She’d cooked despite his protests that he was perfectly capable of standing in the kitchen to cook for them.
They’d eaten in bed because she’d refused to let him sit at the dining room table when he needed to be more comfortable.
They’d watched an old action movie because he’d claimed he wasn’t tired enough to sleep, though she’d felt his exhaustion through their bond like a steady ache.
“We should really clean you up,” she said, reaching for the remote to turn off the television.
“I’m fine.”
The automatic response made her smile. “You smell like antiseptic and dried blood, and you haven’t showered since yesterday morning. That’s not fine, that’s stubbornness.”
Osias turned to look at her, his blue eyes carrying that blend of amusement and exasperation she was learning to love. “I can handle a shower on my own.”
“I’m sure you can handle a lot of things on your own.” She moved on the bed, turning to face him fully. “But you don’t have to. And more importantly, you shouldn’t. Not when those wounds need to be checked and re-bandaged.”
Through the bond, she felt his internal struggle—the Alpha’s instinct to be self-sufficient warring with something deeper. Something that wanted to let her care for him but didn’t quite know how to accept it.
“The wounds are healing faster than expected,” he said, his tone carrying that careful neutrality he used when he was trying to deflect concern. “Lion shifter metabolism. They’re probably closed up already.”
“Probably isn’t the same as definitely.” She stood up from the bed, extending her hand toward him. “Come on. Let me help you get cleaned up, and we’ll see how well your supernatural healing is actually working.”
For a moment, he simply stared at her outstretched hand. Then his expression shifted, and she caught a glimpse of something that made heat pool in her body. The look of a man who was beginning to realize that letting someone care for him might have benefits he hadn’t previously considered.
“Alright,” he said, taking her hand and allowing her to help him up from the bed. “But I’m telling you, the wounds are fine.”
She slipped her arm around his waist as they moved toward the massive bathroom connected to their bedroom, noting how he leaned into her touch just slightly.
“Stop protesting and let me take care of you,” she said as they entered the bathroom.
The space was ridiculous in its luxury—marble surfaces, a shower that could fit six people, and a bathtub that looked more like a small swimming pool.
“Sit,” she instructed, gesturing toward the upholstered bench positioned near the vanity.
Osias raised an eyebrow but complied, settling onto the bench with the careful movements of someone whose body was still reminding him of yesterday’s violence.
Celina moved to the enormous bathtub, turning the taps and adjusting the temperature until steam began rising from the water.
The sound of rushing water filled the silence, and she found herself hyperaware of Osias watching her every movement.
Through the bond, she felt his emotions shifting—gratitude mixing with something warmer and deeper.
The water level rose steadily, and she added bath salts that would help with muscle soreness, the scent of eucalyptus and mint filling the air.
When the tub was finally full, she turned off the taps and faced her mate.
He’d already begun removing his black t-shirt, moving slowly to avoid aggravating his injuries, and the sight of his chest and shoulders emerging from the fabric made her mouth go dry.
“Let me check those wounds,” she said, approaching him with focused attention.
She began peeling away the bandage on his shoulder, her fingers gentle against his skin, and what she found underneath made her breath catch in surprise.
“You were right,” she admitted, staring at what should have been angry red gashes but were instead thin pink lines that looked weeks old. “They’re almost completely healed.”
“I told you lion shifter metabolism was impressive.”
She moved to the bandage covering his ribs, finding the same miraculous healing.
The relief that flooded through her was so intense it made her knees weak.
She’d been trying not to think about how badly he could have been hurt, how close she’d come to losing him before they’d even had a chance to build their life together.
“I cannot believe the press is actually gobbling up our story,” she said, needing to fill the charged silence with something safe while she processed her relief.
“Everyone’s completely convinced yesterday was an action sequence for an upcoming paranormal movie.
Social media is buzzing about practical effects making a comeback. ”
Osias’s laugh was low and genuinely amused. “Which means we’re going to have to actually make this lion movie now.”
“Probably.” She looked up at him, unable to suppress her own smile. “Think you’d be interested in making your acting debut?”
“Only if you’re my co-lead.” His blue eyes darkened.
“We won’t have to do much acting then,” she said, her voice coming out breathier than she’d intended.
“That,” he said, reaching up to cup her face in his large hands, “would probably be the most authentic acting experience of your entire career.”
“Then I think we should definitely pursue the project,” she managed, helping him stand and slowly removing his jeans and boxers until he stood before her gloriously naked.
The sight of him—powerful shoulders, defined chest, the lean strength of his frame unmarred now by anything more serious than faint pink lines—made something primitive and possessive rise in her chest.
She guided him toward the tub, steadying him as he stepped into the warm water, and he settled back with a sound of pure pleasure that sent heat racing through her veins.
She reached for a washcloth and the expensive soap that smelled like cedar and spice, and began the process of cleaning away the remnants of yesterday’s violence.
Her touches were gentle, methodical, and purely focused on care rather than seduction.
At least, that was her initial intention.
But as she worked the soap across his chest, being careful around the healing wounds, she became increasingly aware of the way his breathing had changed and the way his eyes had fixed on her face with a burning intensity.
When she moved to wash his hair, working the shampoo through the dark strands with her fingers, his hands came up to grip the sides of the tub.
“Celina.” Her name on his lips was half warning, half plea.
Through their bond, Celina felt his desire crashing over her in waves. The careful control he’d been maintaining finally began to fracture under the combined assault of her gentle touches and his body’s recovery.
“Get in here with me,” he said, his deep voice carrying the unmistakable command of an Alpha who was done being patient.
The words sent liquid heat racing through her system as she met his gaze, seeing her own desire reflected back at her, amplified by the supernatural connection that bound them together.
Celina didn’t hesitate. She peeled off her cotton t-shirt, letting it drop to the marble floor, followed by her jeans.
Her bra and panties were next, joining the small pile of fabric until she stood completely bare beside the enormous tub where Osias watched her with a gaze so intense it felt like a physical touch.
Steam from the water curled around her legs as she stepped into the warm bath, the heat a welcome contrast to the charged air between them.
She sank into the water and faced him, the liquid soon rising to her chest. Osias’s eyes had darkened from ocean blue to something deeper as his large hands settled on her hips beneath the water, his grip firm but not demanding.
He drew her forward until she was straddling his lap, the movement sending water sloshing gently against the marble sides.
The solid warmth of his thighs beneath hers, the press of his arousal against her inner thigh—it was all so wonderfully, perfectly familiar, yet the circumstances made it feel new.
She could see the faint pink lines on his shoulder and ribs, a testament to how close they’d come to disaster.
“Osias, your wounds,” she murmured, her hands coming to rest on his broad shoulders as her protective instincts warred with the pulsing need his proximity ignited.
“My wounds are healed.” His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through the water and straight into her bones. “Look at me.”
She did, and he indeed looked almost good as new. “I don’t want to hurt you though.”
A slow, devastating smile touched his lips. “Celina, you could never hurt me. You only make me stronger.”
He released her waist to cup her face, his touch reverent.
Then he closed the distance, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was slow, profound, and achingly intimate.
His lips moved over hers with a tenderness that made her chest ache, his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth until she sighed and opened for him.
As their tongues tangled, she poured everything she felt through their bond—the staggering relief that he was alive and healing, the fierce gratitude that he’d protected her yesterday, and the bone-deep love that had rooted itself in her soul.
She felt his answer instantly—gratitude for her care, awe at her strength, and a love so vast and unconditional it threatened to drown her in the best possible way.
His lips soon left hers to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat until he found a sensitive spot at the junction of her neck and shoulder and sucked, the gentle pressure making her arch against him.
The water lapped against them as his mouth worked magic on her skin and his hands played over her breasts until she was squirming in his lap, desperate for more.
His hard cock pressed insistently against her, and the ache between her own thighs became a throbbing demand.
Reaching between their bodies beneath the water, her fingers found his large cock and a low growl vibrated in his chest as she wrapped her hand around him.
Her touch was sure as she guided him to her entrance and sank down onto him, taking him inside her inch by perfect inch.
The stretch, the fullness, the sheer rightness of it stole her breath immediately.
He filled her so completely, and for a moment, they just stayed like that, savoring the intense sensation.
He stopped his ministrations at her neck, resting his forehead against her shoulder as if the sensation was almost too much, and his hands settled on her hips to anchor them both.
She finally wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the damp skin of his throat and breathing in his cedar and spice scent as she began to move.
It was a slow, rocking rhythm that made the water sway around them, and he met her pace with deep, measured thrusts that seemed to reach her very soul.
The completed bond transformed everything.
It wasn’t just physical pleasure, though that was earth-shattering.
It was a silent conversation of shared emotions.
She felt his pleasure as a golden warmth blooming in her own body and his reverence for this moment of peace and healing.
Her own emotions—love, safety, and belonging—flowed back to him, and she could feel him cherishing them.
This, she thought, her mind hazy with sensation. This is what forever feels like.
The slow dance of sensation went on for minutes, each stroke building the tension tighter and coiling the pleasure deeper.
She could feel her climax approaching, a gathering storm of ecstasy.
Osias clearly felt it too because his thrusts became deeper and more purposeful, his hands tightening on her hips.
“Celina,” he gritted out, the Alpha’s control fraying.
That was all the encouragement she needed.
She quickened her pace, riding him with more urgency now, chasing the peak that shimmered just out of reach.
The water churned around them, splashing onto the marble floor in small waves, but neither of them cared.
The world had narrowed to this tub, this man, and this bond.
Within minutes, her orgasm broke over her without warning, a powerful wave of pleasure that tore a cry from her throat.
Her inner walls clenched around his cock, the pulses of ecstasy so intense they were almost painful in their sweetness, and she shuddered against him.
Her climax shattered his control. With a raw, guttural sound that was all lion, he drove up into her one final time and came undone, his body pressing against hers as his own release ripped through him.
She felt the hot spill of him pulse inside her, and the profound rightness of it caused a second, smaller orgasm to ripple through her body.
She clung to him as the aftershocks trembled through them both, their bodies slick with bathwater and sweat, and their hearts hammering against each other’s chests. He held her just as tightly, his face buried in her neck while his breaths came in deep, ragged pulls.
Minutes later, in the quiet aftermath, Celina knew with absolute certainty that she had never been more loved, more seen, or more powerful than she was now.
She knew challenges lay ahead—unmasking who was behind the attack, navigating Hollywood, and protecting their pride.
But they did not intimidate her anymore.
Facing them with this Alpha, this partner, this other half of her soul, didn’t feel like a burden.
It felt like the greatest privilege of her life.