All I could do was lay limp in Damon’s arms as he carried me from the church to his apartment above. I still felt him inside me, his cock inside my most secret place, his cum there, still. I wanted to keep it forever, a piece of him, forever, inside me.

What had he done to me?

What had happened today? On the steps of the altar?

Why didn’t I feel guilty over it? Why did it feel right?

Damon seemed different. If I expected him to be sorry or to feel guilty over what had just happened, how it had happened, well, I knew he wasn’t. In fact, he seemed determined, sure of himself. Not at all confused or upset.

“Damon?” I asked when he set me down beside the bed.

He turned to me, looking me over from head to toe. He hadn’t picked up the shoes they’d given me. They were still lying on the floor of the church. He’d put the ugly pants back on me, though, and now, as if he hadn’t heard me at all, he stripped me naked. It wasn’t erotic or harsh or gentle. It was mechanical.

“Lie down on your belly on the bed.”

Even with his come still inside me, my clit swelled at the order. I swallowed.

Damon walked toward the bathroom but turned to me before disappearing inside when I hadn’t moved from the spot.

“Do as you’re told, Lina. I know that’s not your strong suit, but that’s changing. As of now. Lie down on the bed on your belly. I need to clean you.”

“I can clean myself,” I said, understanding what he meant to do. My words were quiet as heat flushed my skin.

“Hmm.” He turned his back. “Lie down,” he said, ignoring me altogether.

He disappeared into the bathroom. I heard water running. I slowly moved to the edge of the bed, lying down as he’d said. He soon followed and took a pillow from the bed.

“Lift your hips.”

I looked at the wall opposite to where he sat and did as he said. He slid the pillow beneath my hips, elevating them.

“Is this necessary?” I asked.

“Yes.” He settled on the bed. “Spread your legs.”

I did, feeling aroused again even as I tried hard not to let his stuff leak out of me, knowing I’d die of humiliation if that happened.

“Good girl. Now look at me.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to see him, didn’t want him to see me. Not like this.

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly I turned my head, so that I lay facing him. He met my gaze then purposefully shifted his to my ass. He spread my cheeks, and when he did, he returned his eyes to mine. I squeezed mine shut.

“Things could have gone so very differently.”

He rubbed the warm, soapy cloth over that most private place he’d just used.

“It didn’t have to come to what it came to. I’m so grateful that you’re safe, that you’re not hurt, and at the same time, I am so fucking angry with you.”

“I didn’t have a choice, Damon. Alexi forced me—”

“I gave you a choice,” he said. “I was your choice.”

“You left.”

“I told you I’d help you. I’d get you out of this mess.”

I lowered my lashes. He was right. He had.

I heard him take a deep breath. Maybe he was counting to ten. But when he next spoke, he had me burying my face in the blankets.

“My come is still inside you, Lina.”

He rubbed the washcloth over me. I groaned, twisting away, but he gripped my hip, stopping me.

“No. Look at me.”

When I didn’t move, he slapped my ass. I jumped, more startled than hurt, and lay my other cheek on the bed so I could look at him. He still wore the blood-splattered shirt, and the stitches on his face looked painful.

“I want you to understand something,” he started, taking his time with his words. “What happened to you last night—I can’t think of it without feeling sick. The thought of you up there, unable to speak, bound, nearly naked in front of those…”

His lip twisted in revulsion

“In front of those…vultures—”

He slammed his fist against the headboard, shaking the bed, making me jump.

“If you’d been hurt—”

“I wasn’t. You saved me.” A tear slid from my eye, down over my nose, and onto the bed. I knew how close we’d come to him not having saved me. I knew what would have happened then. To him. To me.

“You answer to me from now on, do you understand?”

I nodded.

“You will stay here with me, and I will decide what happens going forward with the investigation, with everything. Including a call to your sister explaining everything.”

“Damon, I can’t do—”

“Including a call to your sister, explaining every single fucking thing.”

I nodded, unable to hold his gaze.

“But first.”

He returned his attention to my ass and rubbed the cloth over it before setting it down between my spread legs and removing the pillow from beneath me. “Pull your knees up to your chest.”

“Damon, please.”

He petted my head, then took a fistful of hair and twisted it back. Gentle and…not. It was him. All of it was him.

“Is my come still inside you, Lina?”

I swallowed hard. He knew it was, he just wanted me to say it.

“Answer my question.”

“Yes.”

“I want to watch it slide out. Now draw your knees up, and keep your eyes on me the whole time. There are more embarrassing ways to do this if you’d prefer.”

I didn’t doubt him. Slowly, I did as he said, feeling equal parts ashamed and aroused, knowing this was an act of submission to him, to what he wanted, knowing this little humiliation, it was as much for me as for him. This was his power over me. It was my yielding it to him.

And so I did. I kept my eyes on his as I relaxed my muscles and watched his face as his seed dripped out of me, sliding warm over me as it fell onto the washcloth. I saw his cock tent against his pants as he watched. And when he met my eyes and I held his gaze in this, my punishment, something changed between us. The shift was small, but important. Something weighty. We belonged to each other in a way we hadn’t before. It was whole and complete and final. I was his and he was mine. Fucking me before Christ, before the holy altar, it wasn’t like this. Not like the intimacy of this moment. That was physical. A need. This…this was us.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you.”

When it was over, we went into the bathroom, where Damon stripped off his clothes. That was when I saw the bandages around his middle. He ran water in the tub, checking the temperature before plugging it.

“The water’s hot. Too hot. But I need you clean. I need to scrub off yesterday’s filth.”

He climbed into the tub. He let me look at him, at his damaged body, before stretching his arm out to me, palm up.

I realized what was different then. Up until this point, he’d always put my needs first, he thought of me first. He was doing that now too, but differently. On his terms.

“Come here, Lina.”

Snapping out of it, I placed my hand in his and stepped into the tub. The water scalded. It was too hot, but I’d adjust, get used to it. I lowered myself down slowly. He slipped in behind me, cradling me between his knees.

“How did you get here?” he asked.

“I walked.”

“Walked? From the FBI office? Without a coat?”

“No. From the hospital. The lawyer Raphael arranged drove me to see you when they let me go, but you’d already been discharged.” I paused, and my eyes filled up at the returning memories. “You’re hurt because of me.”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“Your bandages—”

“Can be replaced.”

He picked up a loofah and began to scrub my back. It felt good, at first, but it got rougher and rougher. I sat through it, though. I didn’t move. Instead, I watched his face in the reflection of the mirror on the opposite wall.

“Sergei isn’t dead,” I said, unsure if I should bring it up.

“That’s too bad. Turn around.”

I shifted so I faced him, splashing some of the water out of the tub as I did.

“Damon, are you okay?” Was he in shock? After the killing? I wanted to ask, to talk about it, but knew I needed to leave that to him.

He stopped and looked at me. “I’m not sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m not sorry for having killed a man. For injuring the others. In fact, all I can think about is wrapping my hands around Alexi’s throat and choking the fucking life out of him too.”

“Damon—”

He began to scrub me again, his gaze far-off. I let him.

We didn’t speak until he’d finished. He let the water out of the tub and climbed out, grabbed a towel, and wrapped me in it, drying me before getting one for himself. He dried himself off then dropped it so he stood naked.

“Let’s sleep,” he said. “I think we both need to sleep.”

He drew the curtains closed and led me to the bed, where he lay me down before climbing in beside me and wrapping a big, heavy arm over me. His breathing leveled out almost immediately. I lay there for a moment, in the safety of his arms. In the warmth there. In the feeling of home.

“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you for coming for me.”

He tugged me closer. “Sleep, Lina.”