carried across 62

 

62 I Will Be Right Here 

Sera 

Fenris stopped. His hand froze against my chest. He looked up from my skin and met my eyes. 

His grey irises were almost completely swallowed by blown, black pupils. The predator was right at the surface, fighting against the iron bars of his control. 

“You burned through your reserves,” he said, his voice dropping an octave into a rough, vibrating growl.” You used the forced healing.” 

“I had to,” I whispered. My chest rose and fell rapidly under his hand. 

“I know.” 

He slowly dragged the cloth down my ribs, tracing the deep, purple bruising where Taya had kicked me. He was incredibly careful not to press too hard, but the sheer size of his hands made me feel completely engulfed. 

He washed my flat stomach. The wet heat of the cloth sent another wave of intense arousal crashing through my system. My core clenched hard. I was suddenly, desperately wet. 

The scent of my arousal bloomed into the room. I could smell my own arousal in the room, it incredibly potent, slicing right through the metallic smell of blood and the woodsmoke from the hearth. 

Fenris inhaled sharply. His nostrils flared. I watched the thick cords of his throat strain as he swallowed 

hard. 

He rinsed the cloth one more time. He moved to my legs. He washed the dirt from my shins, dragging the hot linen up over my knees. He reached my left thigh, where the muscle was deeply bruised and swollen. He washed the blood from the skin, his hand moving higher. 

He washed the inside of my right thigh. 

His knuckles brushed against the edge of my black cotton underwear. The heat radiating from his hand was absolute agony. I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted him to drop the rag. I wanted his massive hands to grip my hips. I wanted him to push my thighs apart and bury himself inside me until the pain in my bones completely disappeared. 

“Fenris,” I breathed. It was an unfiltered, raw demand. 

He froze entirely. The hot cloth was pressed against my inner thigh, mere inches from my aching center. 

“Do not say my name right now,” he growls, the sound tearing out of his chest like a threat. The physical restraint was vibrating in the heavy muscles of his forearms. 

I opened my eyes and looked at him. “I want you to.” 

“You are starving,” he said, his voice entirely ragged. He looked down at my bare, bruised body. “You are 

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broken open. You have no energy left. If I touch you the way I want to right now, I will break you in half.” 

He forced his hand to pull away. 

The loss of his heat was devastating. A frustrated, needy whimper slipped out of my throat before I could stop it. 

Fenris stood up abruptly. He threw the blood-stained cloth into the basin. The water splashed over the edges. He turned his back to me, gripping the heavy wooden mantle of the fireplace with both hands. He stood there, his broad back rising and falling as he dragged harsh breaths into his lungs, fighting his own primal biology. 

He stayed there for a full minute until his breathing leveled out. 

He turned around. He walked to a heavy wooden trunk at the foot of the bed, pulled out a massive, incredibly soft bear pelt, and walked back to me. 

He threw the heavy fur over my bare body, pulling it up to my chin. The weight of the pelt was grounding, trapping my body heat and hiding my exposed skin from his dark eyes. 

“Sleep, Sera,” he said. He didn’t touch me again. He walked to the heavy wooden chair and sat down, keeping watch. “I will be right here.” 

*** 

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