Caught Beast Mate(35)
“What now?” I asked.
“Now we mate.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Do you mean have sex?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Is it my punishment for trying to kill you?”
“If you think of it as a punishment, I will make it so.”
“Okay, I don’t think it’s a punishment.”
“Too bad. I’d have spanked you silly.”
I blinked. Heat crawled over my skin and prickled my cheeks.
A quiet knock came, and Hasel, followed by Cole, carried in buckets of steaming-hot water. They poured it into the bath and left us. I rolled up my sleeves, prepared to give Torrent a bath, and flushed some more, remembering the last one. I stood.
Torrent caught my wrist. “You’re Daddy’s little girl.”
“I am.”
“He’s done a great job.”
“So he thinks.”
“But there comes a time”—he said and swiped his thumb across my wrist—“when a girl grows into a woman. Dad moves on, and so does his little girl.”
“Daddy doesn’t move on. He’s never even had a girlfriend. He won’t stop until he finds me.”
“When a girl grows into a woman, she seeks a man. What I’m saying is that you don’t have to be alone. You’re not alone.” He threaded his fingers with mine.
“Because I have you, my nemesis.”
“That’s a matter of perspective. I’m gonna take care of you. I swear to all that is holy of your people and mine.”
“Those sound like vows.”
“I vow it.”
I bit my bottom lip, thinking about his words. They seemed sincere, so I decided to tell him the truth. “If I knew I could get away with it, I’d try to kill you again.”
He squeezed my hand and chuckled. “Awww, so sweet, my little girl.”
“You shouldn’t call me that.” I tried to jerk my hand away.
Torrent held firm, his eyes starting to lose their dark color. “You like it.”
“Do not.”
“Mm-hm. Take your clothes off.”
“I like the clothes.”
“They’ll get wet.”
“I’m careful, won’t make a mess on the floor or myself as I bathe you.”
“I’m not bathing. You are.”
Stuck on the thought of him bathing me, I gave him a blank stare.
“The dress?” He pointed. “It’s still on. Take it off.”
“I’m gonna bathe in it.”
“Suit yourself.” Torrent propped himself up on his cane and walked the few steps to get a chair from under the window. He wrestled with the chair for a bit before he found his balance and sat down with a grunt.
I clapped my hands. “Go, you.” It struck me then. I was happy for him, happy he’d managed to walk on his own. If he’d decided to live, he ought to accept his disability and learn how to move on with his limitations.
“Thank you.” He bowed. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“I’ll tell you what. You take off your dress, and I’ll give you a nice sponge bath.”
“I can sponge-bathe myself.”
“But you won’t. I’ve seen you naked. Modesty is ridiculous. We’re paired. It’s only a matter of time before you let me taste some sweet pussy. Time is something I don’t have.”
“Everyone has time. Time is abundant and free.”
“There’s not enough with you. I want an eternity, and I have, oh, maybe a few more days.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“A story for another day. Besides, I never know when you’ll try to kill me again and succeed. I’d like to make the best of what time I have with you now.” He tested the water and extended his hand, beckoning for me. “It’s hot.” He winked.
Water splashed on his kilt as I sat in, and my dress made a balloon over the water. I tried to tame it down with my hand. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t such a brilliant idea.
“Baby, please don’t make me rip the dress.”
I couldn’t bathe in a long dress with a collar tight around my neck. The clothes covered my entire body. It felt like I wore a soaked sack. I liked dresses, but not ones this big or even this conservative. “Okay. If I take the dress off, will you put bubbles in the bath?” I looked around and pointed at the shampoo. “There. Now, turn around,” I said.
“No fucking way.”
“You’re annoying.”
He tugged at the dress. “Take it off.”
“Fine.” I tried to unzip the back, but the wet zipper got stuck. I yanked. It broke, and I held up the metal piece. “I’m stuck with the dress.”
“I’ll help.” Torrent hooked a claw under the neckline and sliced down to my navel. I nearly peed myself when the claw nicked my stomach. Blood welled out of a tiny cut. Torrent seemed unperturbed. He took the sleeves and jerked. The seams didn’t stand a chance. The sleeves ripped. He threw them on the floor, then wrestled the dress under me and left it pooling at my feet. I stared at the dress as his hands worked to get it off. He tossed the dress. It plopped on the floor.