Draven.
I led her into the bathing chamber. The air was warm and fragrant with the vanilla, rose petals, and sandalwood weaving together like a gentle spell.
Candlelight flickered against the marble walls, their glow soft enough to make the whole room feel alive.
She stood there for a moment, her eyes sweeping over the bath. The water glistened, its surface shimmering with small ripples and floating petals.
When she turned to me, her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.
"Let me," I murmured.
I stepped closer, my fingers finding the hem of her sweater. Her breath caught, but she didn’t move away.
Slowly, I pulled the fabric upward, my fingertips brushing against the soft skin of her waist. The sweater came off easily, and I set it aside.
Her pulse fluttered beneath her throat when my hands found the clasp of her trousers. I met her gaze—searching, asking, before I unfastened them. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎
She nodded, almost imperceptibly, so I slid the fabric down her legs, and she stepped out of them.
Every motion felt sacred and deliberate, from reverence.
I trailed my knuckles down her arm, over her wrist, then laced my fingers through hers.
"You’ve been through enough today," I said quietly. "Let me wash it away."
Her eyes softened, glimmering in the candlelight.
Next, I helped her step into the bath. The water kissed her skin, rising slowly around her body. She released a small sigh, that sound of release and surrender as the warmth enveloped her.
I rolled my sleeves up and knelt beside the tub. Reaching for the bowl beside me, I filled it and gently poured water over her shoulders. Petals floated down with it, sticking briefly to her skin before drifting away.
"Is it too hot?" I asked.
She shook her head. "It’s perfect."
I picked up the sponge and began to wash her arms and her back in slow circles and careful pressure, wiping away the faint traces of blood she hadn’t even realized were still there.
Then, she leaned into my touch, her breathing steady now. When I brushed my hand along her collarbone and the surface of her breasts, she tilted her head slightly toward me.
"Draven..." she whispered, my name soft as breath.
I met her gaze. "Yes?"
She smiled faintly, giving me the first genuine smile since the attack. "You are making it hard for me to think straight."
A low chuckle escaped me. "Then don’t think. Just feel."
Her laughter was quiet, warm, almost fragile. I leaned closer, letting my thumb trace the side of her neck, then pressed my lips against her temple.
"You really did well today," I whispered against her skin. "And I’m super proud of you."
Her eyes glistened again, then she turned slightly, her hand reaching for my cheek, and she kissed me slowly, deeply, and unhurriedly.
It was the kind of kiss that conveyed everything words could never express.
When she drew back, I smiled and whispered, "Finish your bath. I will be back."
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