CHAPTER 10
1081 Words
Seraphina’s Pov
Lying there on that table after Dimitri had ravaged me, I felt like a complete wreck, but in the most intoxicating way.
My body was slick with sweat, every inch of me glistening, and between my legs, it was a total mess, squirt and cream everywhere, dripping down my thighs, pooling beneath me on the wood.
My dress was torn to shreds, scattered like forgotten rags, leaving me utterly bare, exposed. My skin was flushed and marked with the evidence of our passion.
Breasts heaving, n*****s still swollen and tender from his rough attention, p***y throbbing, raw from the endless orgasms he'd wrung out of me.
I could barely catch my breath, my heart pounding erratically, thoughts swirling in a haze of afterglow and lingering heat. He did this to me, my guardian, my Alpha, and f**k, it felt so right, so deeply personal, like he'd peeled back every layer of me and claimed what was inside.
But even as I lay there, spent and shivering, I knew the fire wasn't out. It smoldered, waiting.
Dimitri hovered over me, his eyes soft now, that rough edge from before melting into something tender, protective.
He scooped me up gently, bridal style, his strong arms cradling me like I was precious, fragile even after all that wildness. I nestled into his chest, inhaling his scent, musk and sweat and him, feeling the steady thump of his heart against my cheek.
"I've got you, Seraphina," He murmured, voice low and warm, carrying me through the chamber to the adjoining bathroom.
The cool air hit my heated skin as he moved, making me shiver, but his body warmth chased it away. He lowered me into the tub, the porcelain cold at first against my back, but he turned on the water, warm streams filling it slowly, steam rising like a gentle fog.
I sank into it, sighing as the water lapped at my sides, washing away some of the stickiness, but not the ache deep inside.
He knelt beside the tub, rolling up his sleeves, and started bathing me. His hands, those large, calloused hands that had been so rough earlier, now moved with care, dipping a cloth into the water and running it over my arms, my shoulders.
Sensory overload hit me. The warmth of the water, the soft drag of the cloth, his fingers brushing my skin incidentally, sending little sparks through me.
He washed my breasts gently, the cloth circling my n*****s, which were still so sensitive they hardened again under the touch. I bit my lip, a soft moan escaping, because even this tenderness was stirring the heat back up.
Down my stomach, over my hips, and when he reached between my legs, cleaning the mess there, his touch lingered just a second too long, fingers grazing my folds.
It felt intimate, vulnerable, like he was caring for me in a way no one ever had, and it made my chest tighten with emotion.
But then I noticed it, his trousers, still on, and that bulge straining against them. His c**k, hard as ever, tenting the fabric painfully, like it was begging for release.
He hadn't come yet, had he? All that time focusing on me, driving me to ecstasy over and over, and he'd held back.
It looked agonizing, the way it throbbed visibly, pre-c*m probably soaking through. My heart twisted. I couldn't let him suffer like that, not after everything.
"Dimitri," I whispered, my voice shaky, reaching out to touch his arm. "You're still... hard. It looks like it hurts. Let me help you."
He paused, water dripping from his hands, eyes meeting mine with a mix of desire and reluctance.
"No, Seraphina. You've had enough. I can handle it." His voice was gruff, but I saw the strain in his jaw, the way he shifted uncomfortably.
He was trying to be the guardian again, the one in control, but f**k that. I wasn't his ward in this moment. I was his equal, his lover, burning with the same fire.
I sat up a bit in the tub, water sloshing, and shook my head.
"No, you can't just suffer like this. Please, let me. I want to."
Stubbornness laced my words because seeing him like that stirred something deep in me, a need to give back, to share this vulnerability.
He hesitated, eyes darkening, but I didn't back down, reaching for the edge of the tub, pulling myself up to kneel on the floor beside him, water dripping from my body onto the tiles.
My hands went to his trousers, fingers fumbling with the buttons, and he groaned softly, not stopping me.
"Alright. f**k, alright," He muttered, surrendering, his breath hitching as I finally undid them, pulling the fabric down.
His c**k sprang free, thick and veined, so hard it curved up toward his stomach, the head purple and slick with pre-c*m that beaded at the tip.
It looked massive, throbbing with need, and I could smell his arousal, musky and potent, mixing with the steam. It made my mouth water, my own p***y clenching in response, even as sore as I was.
I wrapped my hand around him, feeling the heat, the pulse under my fingers, and started stroking slowly at first, up and down the length, twisting my wrist at the top to spread that pre-c*m around.
He groaned deeply, head falling back, hands gripping the tub's edge. "Seraphina. s**t, that feels good."
I picked up the pace, making it filthy, my hand slicking up with his leaking fluids, the wet sounds echoing in the bathroom as I pumped him harder.
But I wanted more. I leaned in, my tongue flicking out to taste the head, salty and warm, swirling around it like it was the sweetest thing.
He nearly lost it then, a guttural moan ripping from his throat, hips bucking slightly. "f**k, your mouth..."
I took him in, inch by inch, lips stretching around his girth, sucking gently at first, then deeper, my tongue pressing against the underside.
The filth of it hit me, kneeling there, naked and dripping, water pooling around my knees, blowing him while he tried to hold on.
I bobbed my head, taking him as deep as I could, gagging a little when he hit the back of my throat, saliva dripping down his shaft, mixing with pre-c*m.
My hand worked the base, stroking what I couldn't fit, twisting and squeezing, making it sloppy, wet sounds filling the air.
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