When it finally ends, I stand under the spray, breathing hard. Water runs down my shoulders and chest. My legs feel unsteady.
I just masturbated for the first time in my life.
Because of her. Only for her.
I need to get myself under control before I go back out there. Deep breaths. Cold water again—I force myself to stand under it until my body calms. Until I can think clearly.
Mostly clearly.
I dry off and pull on fresh clothes. Run a hand over my face and check my reflection one more time. I look like a male who just found release. There’s no hiding it. At least my shaft is now only semi-hard and resting reasonably tame in my pants.
When I open the bathroom door, Sloane is sitting up in bed. Her auburn hair is mussed from sleep. Her eyes meet mine and then dart away.
She definitely heard me.
“Wound care,” I manage, my voice rougher than I intended. “Then breakfast.”
She nods, still not quite meeting my eyes. “Okay.”
Neither of us mentions what just happened. But it’s there between us—heavy and charged and impossible to ignore.
“Your feet are healing well.”I kneel beside the bed and unwrap the bandages carefully, examining each wound. “The cuts are closing cleanly. No sign of infection. Another few days and you’ll be able to walk short distances without assistance.” Part of me is glad for her recovery. The other part—the possessive part I’m trying to control, likes carrying her. “Lookinggood,” I comment while rewrapping. “You’re healing fast. Soon, you won’t need bandages at all.”
I finish my work and lift her into my arms. We’re ready now—the both of us washed and dressed for the day. Sloane is warm and soft against my chest, and my cock stirs again despite my recent release. I grit my teeth and focus on walking.
Late May sunshine streams through the windows, warming the hardwood floors. So different from the dark, desperate winter when Garlen was caged in the basement, half-mad with mating rage.
I proudly stride out to the fronts rooms with my female in my arms and find the kitchen alive with activity.
“Uncle Jonus, we’ve got chocolate chip pancakes.” Zoe cries out. “You want some?”
I grin at the young human. “I think I will have some of that.”
“Oh, I want some too,” Sloane responds. “That looks yummy.”
“It is, it is,” Zoe answers. “Dad’s making them for everyone. You can have some too.”
“Coming right up,” Garlen shouts from the stove.
I settle Sloane into a chair and she smiles up at me—soft, a little shy. My chest tightens.
This female fits here. She looks right at this table, surrounded by my family.
Aldar catches my eye and smirks. He doesn’t say anything, but I know what he’s thinking.
I ignore him and sit beside Sloane, my thigh pressing against hers under the table.
“Good morning,” Ellie chirps from across the table. “Good to see you two. Saturday mornings are the best, aren’t they?”
A knock at the front door interrupts me before I can answer.
A moment later, the door opens and my uncle enters with his bride.
Laurie carries a large bag and immediately crosses to Sloane and squeezes her shoulder, checking on her with warm maternal concern. “How are you feeling today? Did you sleep alright?”
“Much better,” Sloane answers. “The bed was comfortable.”
I catch Aldar’s smirk again and resist the urge to throw something at him.
