Page 75 of Undying Resilience
“That was amazing,” I whisper, moving to untie his hands.
Oliver turns his head to look at me. “Princess, amazing doesn’t even begin to describe what that was. Holy fuck.”
“I’m glad you liked it as much as I did.” I toss the rope onto the far side of the bed. When he doesn’t move to touch me, I swallow hard. “Can you... um. Can you hold me?”
“Yes. God, of course, Wren.” Instantly, his hands are on me. He rolls onto his side and pulls me into his body, cocooning me with his arms. “Are you okay?”
“I am,” I whisper. “I’m more than okay.”
He holds me silently, kissing the top of my head. We stay so still for long enough that we both drift off into a light sleep. I don’t wake until I feel him shift against me, raising his head to look at the clock on his nightstand.
“We should probably get up,” he says. “It’s been twenty minutes.”
Groaning, I force myself into a sitting position. Lying there with Oliver was so nice. The last thing I want to do is leave the warmth of his arms.
“We can shower separately,” Oliver says, stretching his arms with a yawn. “You can go first if you’d like.”
“I think I can handle us taking one together.” I start to lift my nightgown up.
Oliver grabs my wrists, making sure to keep his grip gentle. “No, princess. I don’t want you to just be able to handle it. Wait until you’re one hundred percent ready.”
“I am. I promise.”
He pulls my hands away from my body, forcing me to let go of my nightgown. “You don’t need to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m not!”
The look he gives me says he doesn’t believe me. Not even a little.
I sigh. “I can’t say I’ll feel the same way tomorrow. Or the day after that. But right now, I’m good. I want this.”
For a second, he watches me with his eyes narrowed. But then he nods. “Okay. I’ll get the water warming up.”
I follow him into the bathroom. Maybe he’s right to be concerned about me pushing myself too fast, but at least in this moment, I feel fine. I feel strong. Supported.
Oliver doesn’t watch while I strip, which I appreciate. I’m fine, but it still makes me feel cared for. Only after I’ve stepped into the stream of water with him does he finally look at me.
“Still good?” he asks, and I catch a hint of nervousness in his tone.
“Still good,” I say, kissing him lightly. “Can I wash you?”
He smiles. “Sure.”
Oliver stands still while I soap him up and scrub his skin with a washcloth. When I accidentally go too lightly on his sides, he laughs and squirms, grabbing my wrists.
“Oops, sorry.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Rhett’s told me and Ell about your love for tickling him. You’re not fooling me.”
“It was an accident,” I insist, but then I burst into an involuntary fit of giggles. I truly wasn’t doing it on purpose, but now he’ll never believe me.
He takes the washcloth from me with a playfully cautious glare. “I’d like to get through this shower without slipping and falling from your tickle attacks, thank you very much.”
The mischievous sparkle in his eyes catches me off guard. There’s always something so captivating about the way Oliver looks when he teases one of us. So I watch him while he runs the washcloth over his body.
He smirks. “I’d ask if you like what you see, but I already know the answer.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks. Never in my life have I been so enraptured by a man performing such a simple task. But, I suppose, I’ve never felt this way about a person before, either. Or had someone feel this way about me.