Page 14 of Tiger's Little Waif
Marshall chuckled as he closed and locked the door. He then carried her across the living room and down the hall to the bedrooms. Instead of stepping into the room she’d slept in each night since arriving in Bratburg, he carried her into his room and set her down on the end of his bigger-than-king-size bed.
“Don’t move,” he said with a fiber of power laced through his voice.
Shaw froze, barely even breathing as she watched him prowl across the room and into the bathroom. A moment later, she heard water running. He then returned to stand in front of her.
“A bath and bed for my little baker,” he said as he knelt before her and took off her shoes and socks.
“Are you going to get in the bath with me?”
He looked up at her and smiled. “Would you like that? For Papa to take a bath with you?”
Shaw moved her head up and down as she lifted her arms so he could pull her t-shirt over her head. “Yes, please. That is, um, if you want to.”
Her words were muffled by the cloth of her shirt, but once she was free from it, she checked his expression and found that heat and hunger had replaced his grin.
“I’d like that very much, waif.”
Once he had divested Shaw of her clothes, Marshall turned his back to her and quickly pulled off his own. He then gathered them all from the floor and dumped them into the hamper. Even as his need for Shaw grew, his neatnik tendencies kept him from sweeping her up and carrying her into the bathroom.
Facing the bed, he studied the woman sitting on his bed and sighed with happiness. His mate was beautiful, with full breasts and hips, and pale skin that called for him to mark her as his own. Her hair just brushed her jawline in a blunt cut that accentuated her neck and made his teeth hurt. He could not wait to bury his canines into the place where neck flowed into shoulder, the place that pulsed with life, and just begged for his bite.
Her eyes were wide as she looked him up and down, from hairline to toes, before zeroing in on his cock. His long, thick, erect cock.
“Wow,” she breathed as he slowly approached the bed.
“Ready?”
“Huh?”
“Are you ready for a bath?” he asked as he gathered her up in his arms and carried her into the bathroom.
He heard her swallow before she whispered, “Yes, Papa. But maybe we should have sex and mate first? Then we won’t have to take two baths.”
Marshall could not stop himself from chuckling at the hopeful tone in his Little mate’s voice. “I refuse to smell like sweat and feel greasy from cooking food all day when I fully mate my woman.”
He stepped into the tub and sat down in the biggest tub Lonergan could find him. Now that they were both seated, he arranged her on his thighs facing him with his erection standing straight up between them.
When she frowned up at him, he cocked and eyebrow. “What’s wrong, waif? Is the water too hot? Too cold?”
Her expression smoothed and she shook her head. “It’s fine.”
As he wet a washcloth and pumped liquid soap on it, he could tell something was bothering her.
“Papa isn’t a mind reader, sweetheart. If you want or need something, you need to tell me, so I can get it for you.”
Shaw dropped her head forward, then raised one hand to stroke one fingertip down the center of his chest. He grabbed her hand before she reached his still-throbbing erection. He pulled it up and placed a kiss in the palm before laying it on the top of his shoulder.
“Waif? Tell Papa, please.”
“Don’t you have any bubbles? Or bath toys?” she whispered as her other hand slid beneath the water and wrapped around his cock.
Sucking in a sharp breath, he grabbed her wrist and pulled it out of the water. This hand got the same treatment and when she began to wiggle her hips closer, he dropped his hands to hold them still.
“No touching Papa’s cock without permission. Especially when I’m this close to losing control. And I’m afraid I don’t have any bubbles or toys. After breakfast tomorrow morning, we’ll visit the storehouse and see what they have. And if there’s nothing you like there, we’ll get on the computer and order you everything you need, want or dream of. Okay?”
She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes wide. “Oh, I can’t ask you to do that. I can wait until my first paycheck and then buy some bubbles myself.”
“No, you won’t. As my mate, it is my duty and honor to take care of you. Which means washing you when you’re dirty, protecting you when you’re in danger, and providing you with anything you might want. What you have to do is decide what flavor bubbles you want, and whether you want ducks, boats or mermaids to play with. Understand?”