Page 14 of Aine
His pupils dilate as I speak, his fingers digging almost painfully into my skin.
“No.”
Turning away, he reaches into the shower and turns on the water. Wiping at my cheeks, I bring my lip between my teeth and bite at the skin, terrified of his clear plans to put me in there.
“I can take it from here.” I’m hoping he’ll take pity on me and leave.
It’s wishful thinking, I know that, but I have to try.
Damien pretends he doesn’t hear me, his focus never once leaving the shower knobs as he adjusts the temperature. To my shock, once he has it set, he steps back and begins removing his clothing.
His shirt is the first to go. I look around nervously, double-checking that nobody is present to witness the action.
“What’re you doing?” I ask.
His pants are next, dropping to the floor with a quiet thud. I stare up at the ceiling as I wait for him to finish, my face flaming as I hear his last piece of clothing drop. I’m sure my face is beet-red.
“Can you take off your clothes? Or do you need my help with that too?” Damien asks, his words mocking.
I’m careful to avoid looking at his lower half as I nod, my hands shaking as I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. The motion is nothing short of agonizing, but I push through the pain. I want to get this over with as soon as possible.
Damien taps his foot as he waits for me to undress, quiet sighs emerging from him whenever I pause to rest. I wish he would get Jenna to help, and I wonder why he’s even bothering to do it himself. He clearly has the means to get somebody else to deal with this.
Grabbing my armrest with one hand, I use my other to try to take off my shorts, making little progress before I sink back down into the seat to rest. The effort is killing me, but I force myself to lift again and push the fabric down another inch. I switch arms to repeat my actions on the other side, frowning as Damien stops me.
His impatience seems to have reached its peak as he wraps his arm around my torso and lifts me, using his free hand to swiftly rid me of my bottoms. I clench my jaw as his hand comes in contact with my clothing, knowing how aware we both are that he’s touching my cold pee. My underwear goes down with the shorts, leaving me uncomfortably bare in front of this strange man.
I kick them off my feet as Damien lifts me entirely out of the chair, his arm supporting most of my weight. He remains silent as I tentatively shuffle toward the shower, my steps slow and careful.
His leg brushes against mine as I step inside, the contact making me jolt. The slick, wet floor offers little grip for my feet, and in a panic, I grab his shoulder to steady myself.
“Sorry,” I mutter, rushing to remove my hand from him.
My mind once more wanders to Henry as Damien helps me navigate to the in-shower bench. This interaction would undoubtedly lead to severe punishment, and Henry would’ve likely made Damien watch him fuck me as a reminder to us both whom I belong to.
I shiver at the thought, my body tensing in fear that his ghost will somehow find a way to do just that. His presence will always haunt me, a curse for killing him. It’s the price for taking the life of another.
“Sit,” Damien commands, his clipped voice leaving little room for argument.
I nod, lowering myself onto the bench. He doesn’t have to tell me twice.
Damien steps into the spray once I’m settled, his gaze locked on me as the water pours down his body. Two days ago, I was being sentenced to death, and now the creature who was meant to kill me is standing naked in the shower helping me clean myself. It’s unbelievable.
He doesn’t bother to hide the way he’s looking over my bare skin, and I fight the urge to cover myself. I learned long ago it’s better to let them have their fill. Instead, I focus on the wall to my left, watching the water droplets pour down the tile.
I make a pointed effort not to look at Damien, but it’s hard not to peak. Human males are so much smaller than the beasts, both in height and strength. Damien looks unlike anybody I’ve ever seen before, and while I’d have to be crazy not to recognize he’s attractive, I refuse to linger on that thought.
When he moves just right, I catch sight of a large scar on the inside of his thigh, the only marring visible on his skin. It’s large and looks like a sizable chunk of his flesh was ripped off before awkwardly healing over, but I turn away before I’m able to make out any more of it. His thigh is too close to other parts of his body, and I don’t want him to catch me looking there.
Instead, I watch out of the corner of my eye as Damien grabs a loofah, the object looking comically small in his palms. He squirts liquid soap on it before building some suds, readying it for me. I hold out my hand to take it and am surprised when he circumvents my outstretched limb and applies the soap to my body himself.
My face warms as he washes me, the man efficient in scrubbing the grime and bodily fluids off my skin. He avoids cleaning my wounds, choosing to let the soapy water run over them instead. Grabbing my knee, he spreads my legs and runs the loofah over my sex, careful to get all the dried pee off. He frowns as he does so, his eyebrows furrowing together.
“Did Jenna take you to use the restroom yesterday?” he asks, breaking the silence.
I shake my head. “No.”
Damien hums, the noise quiet as it emerges from his chest. Without warning, he wraps his arm around my waist and lifts me, forcing my wet, soapy body to press against his. A gasp slips from my lips at the action, the sound ending in a choked cough as he pushes the loofah between my butt cheeks, cleaning me from the back.