Desmond Loupe
Steam curled around them, thick and hazy, the warm spray of the shower pattering against the tile as Desmond carefully maneuvered Cassandra under the water. Droplets clung to her skin like tiny jewels, tracing delicate paths down her bruised body. Her body was stiff, the deep bruises along her ribs still vivid, the pain evident in the way she winced with each small movement.
"Easy, Cass," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. His large hands steadied her as she leaned into him for support. His wolf prowled just beneath the surface, pushing at his restraint, urging him to pull her closer—to touch her, taste her. He gritted his teeth, determined to keep control.
Cassandra stood before him, her head bowed, wet strands of hair clinging to her pale skin like ink strokes o
