the drive back into town, and promptly disintegrated it when she shifted to sneak through the corridors. Fleance’s skin was scuffed with dirt, as though he’d brought along the mud he’d picked up in his hellhound form the same way he shifted with his clothes intact.
His pants joined his jacket on the floor. Then his boxers. Sheena let out a toothpaste-flavored groan as he stepped into the tub. His body was pure muscular power, honed and polished until his every movement was like a dance. A sexy shower dance. He stood under the water, turning so that it ran over every inch of his body. Over his face, his toned chest, the hard lines of his abs. It trickled down his hips, caught in the deep grooves of his V and then…
Sheena groaned out loud and threw her toothbrush down. Fleance crossed his arms and leaned against the shower wall.
“You’ve already had a shower,” he protested as she slid her dressing gown over her shoulders.
“Hush,” she commanded as she stepped into the shower with him. Hot water pounded down on her shoulders, but she barely noticed it. All her attention was on her mate.
It wasn’t just dirt darkening his skin. There were bruises, too. She touched her fingertips to a livid mark on his ribs. “When did this happen?”
“During the fight. You were there, remember?”
She remembered Fleance limping in his hellhound form and protectiveness rose up inside her, hot and fierce. “You’re hurt—”
“But you’re not. That’s what is important.”
“No, it’s not.” She soaped up a cloth and ran it gently over the bruise. Then over his chest, his arms, every part of him that she could reach. There were more bruises hidden under the dirt, and scratches. Most of them were already scabbing over but enough were still unhealed enough to stain the water red as it whirled into the drain.
Sheena looked into his eyes. “If we’re ever in a fight like that again, you have to let me take some hits. I won’t let you put yourself on the front line again.” She pulled him down for a kiss. *Not without me by your side.*
*If we’re in a fight again,* he agreed. *My job is to make sure that doesn’t happen. As your mate and as your pack.*
*Good luck. I don’t think my hellsheep has the same opinion on fighting as you. Or me, for that matter.*
Fleance smiled against her lips. *I’m still a hellhound. If your hellsheep needs to be herded…*
*You wouldn’t dare.*
He stroked her sides, drawing her closer. *You’re not my alpha yet.*
She leaned towards the heat that emanated from his entire body. She was hot, too, her body straining for his touch. Every brush of his hands on her skin, his lips against hers, made her burn more fiercely. Desire was a weight strung between them, pulling them both in.
But she didn’t want to rush. The last time had felt almost brutal with desperation. There’d been no space for her to cherish his body. This man, who was already so much a part of her and yet about whom she still had so much to learn.
She let her hands drift down from his chest, trailing a river of droplets over his stomach. The darkness was still in his eyes, but despite his bruises, he wasn’t badly hurt.
*Is it okay if we take this slowly?*
His eyes burned. *Of course.*
There was no desperation now, just a deep hunger and longing and the promise of a future stretching out far ahead. Sheena pushed Fleance into the corner and pulled his head down to kiss him while her other hand explored the hard line of his collarbone. She trailed her fingertips along his shoulder muscles, amazed all over again that every inch of this gorgeous man was hers.
Fleance moaned as her hand drifted lower. His thighs tensed at her touch, and when he grabbed her and lifted her with her back against the wall the only reason it wasn’t a surprise was because she’d felt the mate bond thrum with intention a split second before. Sheena laughed and kicked her legs half-heartedly.
“Hey. Who’s claiming who, here?”
Fleance kissed her, which wasn’t a reply. She dug her fingertips into the tight muscles at the base of his neck and he groaned and rested his head on her shoulder, still holding her up against the wall.
*I’m yours,* he murmured, his voice a prayer in her head.
She lay a row of kisses down the side of his neck, following the thick band of muscle