was not going to expose her. Not in any way. I was supposed to keep my woman safe, but even her hand felt so fucking good. The smell of her shampoo, the scent of her wet skin, it was almost too much.
My hips bucked, thrusting into her grip, and I had to clench my jaw to keep from growling in pleasure. Then her other hand wrapped around my chest, clutching me to hold herself closer, and there was nothing I could do. Pushing her hand down, I took over, jacking myself off until I gasped. Long ropes of cum splattered against the floor, quickly vanishing down the drain, and all I could do was watch it. I had to make sure it was all gone.
"You weren't supposed to do that," I reminded her, turning when the last of it had been washed away.
She just stepped under the water, letting it wash over her shoulders. Her long hair had been clipped up to keep it dry, but she was completely and totally naked, and right in front of me. My eyes dropped of their own accord, admiring every inch of her beauty.
"Stop," she hissed, turning to face the showerhead.
But that only let me see the back view. "Pretty sure the guy who got busted jacking off in your shower is the one who should be embarrassed. Not you."
"Lane..." She laughed at herself, but it was just one chuckle. "I'm not twenty."
So I turned her back around to face me. "Don't care."
"My tits sag and I have stretch marks," she reminded me.
So I traced the lines on her belly. "These? I just want to kiss them. And every woman's tits sag. So do men's balls. Kinda how gravity works. You are still perfect, still gorgeous, and I like looking."
The smile she gave me for that was everything I'd hoped for. "Is that part of the fated thing?" she asked.
I shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I can tell you that I have a weakness for brunettes, and fake tits freak me out. They're always shaped wrong, and just too high, you know? Like..." I slid my hands up her ribs and allowed myself to look again. "I love the shape of you. The curves, the softness, and just the way you are. I wouldn't change a thing."
"I would," she mumbled, turning around again, but this time to rinse off.
So I leaned in until my lips were beside her ear. "I don't care what any other man has told you. You are beautiful. We all agree. Ian's favorite part is the little wrinkles by your eyes that show up when you're happy. Pax and Trent are obsessed with your legs - or tits. They change their minds often. Seth has a thing for your ass."
She glanced back, our eyes meeting. "You?"
"It's stupid," I admitted. "And it will sound like a line."
"What is it, Lane?" she insisted.
I kissed the side of her head. "I love that you're gentle. Not fragile. Not timid. You're just... nice. It's those moments when you first saw Red and wanted to pet me. When you press a hand to your head because you're embarrassed. When your cheeks turn pink, but you're still smiling. You're so... feminine. Like my own little bunny."
She giggled and moved away, letting me have the water again. "Not sure if I should be worried now," she teased.
"Nah." I stepped back and let all the soap and shampoo wash off my body. "Even the idea of scaring you makes me uncomfortable. Like, physically, Elena. It's part of this thing, I think."
"Being fated as my mate? You were going to explain that."
I nodded. "It's pretty rare. Only happens a few times in each generation, and it seems it's me. I guess soul mates is a good way to explain it, but it's one-sided. Well, almost always. Stories say a few pairs were both fated for each other. But, yeah, um..." I paused, trying to figure out what to even say. "You know those stories about werewolves ravaging towns and stuff? That's from this. If we can't get to our mate, we will go insane. We can't stop."
Her brow furrowed. "But you barely talked to me for weeks when I moved here."
"I was checking your house every night in wolf-form. Most times you didn't hear me. I've sat out all night in the backyard making sure you were safe. Um, yeah. I did plenty of stupid shit." I turned off the water, but let her step out first. Then