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Lynx’s Ruin

Page 56

by Saxon James

“I feel like I might float away.” His voice is slower than usual, relaxed, and that same smile is permanently fixed to his face.

I tuck myself back into my pants and reposition my arm around him for support. He’s like a baby foal taking its first step as we start back along the path. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Yes, please,” he answers, wrapping both arms around my waist. His face buries into my chest, and the whole way back to the cabin, it feels like he’s sleeping against me.

It’s not until we’re safely back inside, door locked, that I realize I didn’t scan the forest once on the way back. All I could concentrate on was Sasha.

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

SASHA

I’m in a haze of sleepy happiness when we get back to Lynx’s place and he half carries me through the door. It’s warm inside, and I’m shivering more than I’d realized, but he helps me into a chair and then stands back, looking at me.

I feel more vulnerable under his intense scrutiny than I did when he was balls-deep inside of me. I’m still kind of sore, still very wired, but mostly I’m just floating in the good feelings coursing through my veins.

Lynx doesn’t say anything as he returns to the kitchen and pulls out a bowl to fill with water. Like always, his movements are calculated and measured, fluid in the way I’ve never seen someone move before. I’m so hypnotized by his general presence that I don’t realize what he’s doing until he returns to me with the bowl and a sponge.

Lynx kneels at my feet, and his sudden closeness heats the already cozy room.

“What are you doing?”

He reaches up and pulls a leaf out of my hair. “You’re a mess.”

That makes me smile. “Wonder why.”

His lips pinch as he takes hold of my chin and tilts my head to the side. “Are you okay?”

“Perfect.”

He drains the sponge in his fist before lifting it to my face. The wet, soft material passes over something that sends a short, sharp sting across my face. I hiss in pain, and Lynx’s hand pauses, hovering in place.

“You have a few cuts,” he says.

Until the water touched them, I had no idea. Maybe I’m still full of adrenaline, but I genuinely just had the best sex of my life, and now this feral animal of a human is … cleaning me?

“Keep going,” I tell him when I’m scared he might stop.

The permission is obviously what he’s waiting for because he restarts, scrubbing at the dirt, the warm water from the bowl filling me with comfort before cooling against my skin.

I’m still completely naked, and even though the water is giving me goose bumps, I’m too curious to see what Lynx will do to get dressed yet.

He cleans up my face first, bringing a first aid kit over to deal with my cuts once I’m clean, and then moves onto my chest.

My nipples prickle with his touch, and as he moves over my stomach, a spear of lust gets me right in the groin. I’m too satisfied to get it up again just yet, but I can’t deny this is one of the most erotic moments of my life.

Being fucked like an animal, and now … this. This … care. Him looking after me like I’m something worth being looked after. Lynx works methodically, a tiny hitch between his eyebrows that lingers as he inspects my body and the marks he left behind. I love every one of them, and I want to ask him what he thinks when he looks at them, but I’m so scared of breaking this moment between us.

It’s like we remembered to take a breath, but neither of us has let it out again. We’re balancing in that ballooning tension, and any little adjustment will make it snap.

My pulse has quickened as he moves on to my arms, washing me everywhere, taking his time to clean each individual finger before treating the cuts there too, and wrapping the still-bleeding ones with bandages. There’s a rawness opening up in my heart, and I can’t keep quiet anymore.

“You don’t have to do all this,” I tell him.

“Of course I do.”

I chuckle, an awkward sound that lacks my usual confidence. “I can shower myself. It’s okay.”