“You’re mine, Blake,” he grunts softly, his voice thick with emotion as he pushes deeper, a little harder this time, testing my limits. His hand on my breast tightenspossessively, and the slight edge of ownership in his voice sends a jolt of need coursing through me. Iwantto be his. I want to belong to him so completely that nothing can ever touch me again. “Do you hear me, Doc?Mine.”
I can only moan in response, a high-pitched, needy sound that’s swallowed by the steam and the sounds of the shower. My hands clutch onto his shoulders, my nails digging into his wet skin, holding on for dear life. He’s the only solid thing in a world that has been spinning out of control.
He shifts his stance slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts, and his cock brushes against that tender spot deep inside me. A gasp tears from my throat. He does it again, a teasing, deliberate drag against that sensitive bundle of nerves. “That’s it, Doc,” he coaxes, his lips still against my ear. “Let go. Let me have it. Let Daddy take all that pain and turn it into something beautiful.” His hips begin to circle, a slow, grinding motion that’s absolutely devastating. “I’ll protect you. Just like I’ll protect all the babies you’re going to grow for me.”
The words hit me like a wave of pure, unadulterated emotion. They aren’t filthy talk while he fucks me. They’re a promise. A vow. A possessive glimpse into a future I haven’t even dared to think about. Actually carrying his child—having a piece of him inside me—is the ultimate claim. Realizing he wants to tie himself to me forever is my undoing.
A wave of pleasure so intense it’s almost painful crashes over me, starting in my core and radiating outwards until my entire body is convulsing with it. “Jagger.” His name sounds strangled as I cry it out. This isn’t just an orgasm. This is an exorcism, my walls crumbling in the floodof my release. It’s a mixture of pure, physical ecstasy and the profound, soul-deep relief of being seen, held, and completely and utterly cherished. I come for him again and again, my body clenching around his like I’m trying to fuse us into one being.
His arms are like bands of steel around me, and his thrusts never cease. He holds me tight as I completely let go until fresh tears cascade down my cheeks. These aren’t born of pain. These are tears of gratitude and overwhelming love. He leans in and kisses them away, his lips soft against my skin. “That’s my girl,” he whispers, his voice thick with satisfaction and awe as he works his hips, drawing out every last spasm of my climax. “So fucking beautiful when you come for Daddy.”
Limp and boneless in his arms, I feel his control begin to fray. His rhythm becomes less tender and more urgent as his breathing grows ragged. He’s been holding back, waiting for me to get what I needed. “I’m going to fill you up, Doc,” he groans, his voice laced with possession. “I’m going to make sure you’re dripping with me. I’m going to breed this perfect little body until you’re round and full and everyone knows you’re mine. I’mgoingto put my baby in you.”
His words are filthy, but they’re the most loving thing anyone has ever said to me. They’re a promise of a future, family, and a life beyond this godforsaken place. They’re a promise of belonging.
With a final, deep thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and stills. A low groan tears from his chest as he finds his release. I feel the hot, powerful pulse of his climax as he pours himself deep inside me. It’s a moment of absolutepossession, being marked and claimed in the most elemental of ways. He holds me tightly, his face buried in my hair, and his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.
I feel a sense of peace settle over me. The storm outside is still raging, but right now, there’s only the two of us, wrapped together under the warm spray, our hearts beating in tandem.
He doesn’t pull out right away. He just holds me tightly, his weight pinning me to the tiled wall as we catch our breaths, and his cock slowly grows soft inside me. After a long moment, he lifts his head, and his eyes search mine. They’re soft now, the stormy gray replaced by a deep, calm blue. He raises a hand, his thumb gently stroking along my cheek. “I’m here, Blake.” His voice is a low, gentle rumble. “I will protect you.”
The hot water is steaming up the stall as it swirls around us. Blake stands beneath the spray, her bare skin turned slightly pink from the heat, and her long hair hanging limp down her back, darkened and heavy. It traces the line of her spine and sticks to her skin. Her arms are still wrapped tightly around me as I pepper kisses against the top of her head. Every bit of tension and turmoil from her body has washed down the drain with the blood from mine.
Finally letting her guard down, she keeps her eyes closed with her face pressed into my chest. “I’ve got you,” I whisper softly, my lips lingering against her wet hair.
She nods, a tiny, almost unrecognizable movement. “I know.”
I reach for the soap and fill my palm before rubbing my hands together to form suds. I smooth the bubbles over her shoulders and drag my palms down her arms until my fingers are laced with hers, working the soap into her hands and between her fingers. Retracing my steps, I move to hershoulders and dig my fingers lightly into her muscles, working at the knots created from far too many hours of long surgeries. She lets out a contented sigh and tips her head slightly, exposing the side of her neck. Following her silent cue, I press my lips into the crook of her neck as my hands slide up and down the slippery, sudsy skin of her back.
She lets me care for her. She gives herself a much-needed break, letting me be strong for her. I turn her into the water, letting it cascade over her skin until the suds have rinsed from her body. When I’m done, I turn off the water and reach for the towels outside the stall, realizing just how loud the sudden silence feels. I wrap a thick, fluffy towel around her first, tucking it securely against her chest before she can think to do it herself. Then I fasten one around my waist.
Steam curls around us as I guide her out of the stall and onto the cold tile, holding onto her tightly to ensure she doesn’t slip. I dry her, treating her like she’s fragile and might break if I’m too rough. Hair first, blotting the water from it. Then her shoulders, arms, and back. I kneel to dry her legs, pausing only to press a soft kiss to each of her thighs, as she watches me with a quiet, unreadable expression.
After helping her to her locker, I pull out a fresh pair of scrubs. I guide her arms into the sleeves before lifting the fabric over her head and lowering it to her waist. She steps into her pants, and I drag them up her legs, tying the strings to secure them over her tiny hips. With her sneakers ruined, I slip her feet into the flip-flops at the foot of her locker, likely used for the communal shower.
Iquickly dress myself in the clean clothes the guys brought for me. By the time I finish, Blake is brushing her hair and struggling with a knot she can’t easily reach. “Let me,” I urge gently. Now standing behind her, I work the brush in slow strokes from crown to ends, carefully untangling knots when I reach them.
“I… I need,” she stammers suddenly, growing anxious, or maybe uncomfortable. “I need to tell you something.”
“Okay.” I finish my stroke and still my hand.
She swallows hard. “Not here.”
I nod and fight the urge to press her further. “I’ll take you home.”
“No.” Her spine stiffens. “They know where I live.”
“I know,” I share. “I meant my home.”
She turns, and her chocolate eyes are sharp despite her exhaustion. “What do you mean youknow?”
I meet her gaze.There’s no point dancing around it now.“You’ve been under my surveillance since we met.” Her mouth falls open, and from the look in her eyes, I know what she’s thinking before she says a word. “It’s not like that.”
“Really?” she huffs. “You aren’t sleeping with me to get me to tell you where Maryam is.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I broke my entire team’s trust because I couldn’t stay away from you. I’ve violated more orders than I can count to be with you.”
She studies me trying to decide whether I deceived her and if she can still trust me. “You were watching me… at the market?”
