I wantedhim.
The memory is so vivid, so potent, that it feels like it's happening all over again.
While I relive every shameful moment, Cass’s hand continues its slow, soothing caress over my skin, a stark, confusing contrast to the storm raging inside me.
"It's okay," he murmurs, his voice a low, comforting rumble. "Breathe, Tansy."
But I can't. I'm too shocked to react, too horrified by my own forgotten desire.
My body is a fucking traitor.
I suck in a deep breath as the pressure inside me lessens. Cass's knot goes down, shrinking until it's no longer an anchor. He takes a step back, and the sudden emptiness is a cold shock as his semi-hard cock falls from my body. A trickle of our combined release follows, a warm, sticky reminder of what we just did.
He looks down at me, his expression unreadable.
"We need to clean you up," he says a little too casually. As if my entire world wasn’t shattered. “Come on, omega.” He reaches down and catches my wrist before I can move away.
Irritation crackles through me now that my mind is clear. It’s a welcome defense against the shock and humiliation.
"I can clean myself up," I say as I push myself up onto my elbows. I don't need his help. I don't need his gentle hands or his casual tone.
I need him to leave me alone.
A slow, boyish smile spreads across his face, telling me he’s not having it. “You’re not walking around right after your heat,” he says quietly as he moves in close, one arm sliding under my knees and the other bracing my back, lifting me with careful ease.
I gasp at the sudden motion, more from surprise than fear, as he draws me against his bare chest, solid and warm.
“I said I can clean myself up.” My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to, edged with leftover heat andbruised pride. “I’m not helpless.” I push at his solid chest, but it's like trying to move a mountain.
Cass simply chuckles, the vibration rumbling through my body. “I never said you were.”
He carries me into the adjoining bathroom, his movements sure and deliberate. He sets me down on my feet, but keeps his hands on my waist, caging me in against the cold tile of the counter. His eyes dance with amusement. "Now, you're going to let me take care of you. Understood?"
I bare my teeth in a snarl, a low growl rumbling in my own chest. "Get. Off."
Instead of anger, a flicker of pure, unadulterated amusement moves through our bond, a warm, teasing current that only makes me angrier.
Cass smiles wide as he releases me, turning to limp over to the glass-walled shower. I watch him, my arms crossed over my chest, as he fiddles with the knobs.
He’s putting too much weight on his left leg.
"You're going to fuck up your knee," I say, my words sharp and clipped.
Water roars to life, steam beginning to curl through the air. He glances over his shoulder at me, a brow raised. "Do you always talk like that?"
I blink, confused. “Like what?”
A corner of his mouth tips up. “With a dirty fucking mouth.” He studies me for a beat, his hand moving under the spray, testing the temperature. “Where’d you learn to talk that way?”
I don’t answer. I just lift my chin. “Why? Does it fucking bother you?”
Cass’s smile spreads, slow and satisfied. “No,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, intimate growl that sends a jolt straight to my core. “I fucking like it.”
His words catch me completely off guard, and my mind stumbles, trying to process them.
Alphas aren’t supposed to like mouthy omegas. They crave flawless mates, demanding that we act like perfect little things who float through life on clouds of lilies and sweetness.
We aren't supposed to curse, or show anger, or even use the bathroom.
