An hour later, they move him to a quieter room for observation. The new stitches look neat but angry under fresh gauze. Pain ds drip through his IV, making his eyelids heavy while I sit on the edge of the narrow bed, careful not to jostle him.
The hallway outside is quiet now. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead and I slip out for a mont when the nurse leaves, leaning against the cold wall just past the curtain. The tears I’ve been holding back finally break free.
I cover my mouth to muffle the sobs. My shoulders shake as Images flash through my mind....Zane pale on our bed, blood on the sheets, the fear that gripped when I thought he might pass out. What if we hadn’t made it here in ti? What if I lose him because we couldn’t control ourselves?
A nurse notices and brings water and a tissu, she rubs my back gently.
"He’s stable. This is a warning, not the end. Go be with him."
I wipe my face and return to the room. Zane’s eyes are half-open, glassy from the sedation. When I climb carefully onto the bed beside him, he turns his head toward .
"Co here," he murmurs, voice thick and slow.
I curl against his good side, resting my head on his shoulder. His arm wraps weakly around . Even drugged and hurting, he tries to pull closer.
"I was so scared," I whisper against his neck.
"I know. I’m sorry, baby." He pauses, breathing deep.
"But... I’d risk it again. Feeling you like that... being inside you... reminded I’m still alive. Still yours."
I lift my head, fresh tears spilling. "Don’t say that. I need you alive more than I need that."
He gives a small, tired smile. His fingers brush my cheek. "I love you. We’ll be more careful. But don’t stop wanting , okay? I can’t stand feeling weak."
I kiss his forehead, then his lips, soft and careful.
"I’ll always want you. But you have to heal first. Promise ."
"Promise," he whispers, eyes already drifting shut again.
I stay there, listening to his breathing even out. The monitor beeps steadily. Outside, the sky is starting to lighten toward dawn. My body aches with exhaustion, but I don’t move. I just hold him, grateful he’s still here, still fighting.This was too close...Way too close.
———
The afternoon light feels gentler today, but my nerves are still raw from last night’s hospital run. We got discharged this morning with even stricter warnings. Zane is back in our bed, propped up against pillows, wearing only loose black boxers.
The new bandage on his left side looks clean for now, but I keep glancing at it every few minutes, terrified fresh blood will bloom through the white gauze again. n
I dip a soft cloth into the warm basin of water mixed with a little antiseptic.
"Hold still," I murmur, kneeling beside him on the bed.
I gently wipe his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle that haven’t softened despite his hospital stay. Water trails down his skin in slow rivulets. Zane’s breath catches when the cloth passes near the edge of the bandage.
"You’re killing , Elaine," he says, voice low and rough. His dark eyes follow every movent of my hands.
"Good. Maybe you’ll learn so patience." I smile, but it’s shaky. I move lower, washing his stomach, then his thighs. His cock twitches visibly under the thin fabric of his boxers as I get closer. r
YI can see the thick outline, already half-hard. Heat pools between my own legs, but I push it down. No risks..not after last night.
I peel his boxers down carefully and his cock springs free, heavy and thickening under my gaze. God, he’s beautiful. Veins stand out along the shaft, the head already glistening.
I wrap my fingers around him lightly, stroking with just enough pressure to make him groan.
"Baby..." he warns, but there’s no real fight in it. He needs this.
I lean down and press a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the tip, tasting him. My tongue swirls around the head while my hand works the base in long, slick strokes.
Zane’s hips twitch once before he forces them still, hissing at the pull on his wound. I take him deeper into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks, sucking gently but thoroughly.
The wet sounds fill the quiet room while my free hand cups his balls, massaging them softly as I bob my head in a slow, torturous rhythm.
"Fuck, your mouth," he growls, one hand tangling gently in my hair. "I want to be inside you so bad right now."
I pull off with a soft pop, lips shiny. "You can’t. And you know it." I stroke him faster, twisting my wrist just the way he likes. "Let take care of you like this."
He watches with dark, frustrated hunger while I worship him...:long licks, gentle sucking, deep strokes that make his thighs tremble.
I edge him beautifully, bringing him close until his breathing turns ragged, then slowing down until he curses my na. The power feels good after the terror of last night. I’m in control. I can keep him safe and still give him pleasure.
After twenty minutes of this sweet torture, I finally let him finish. I take him deep into my throat as he cos, swallowing every drop while he groans my na. When I pull back, he looks wrecked...sweaty, breathing hard, but the tension in his shoulders has eased a little.
I clean him gently with a fresh cloth and pull his boxers back up. "Better?"
"For now," he mutters. There’s a dark promise in his eyes. "When I’m healed, I’m bending you over every surface in this house."
I kiss his forehead and go to change his bandage. My hands are steady as I peel the old one away, the stitches look angry but intact.
I apply fresh ointnt and tape everything down carefully, my fingers brushing his skin more than necessary. The air between us stays thick with want.
——
Later that evening, I help him shower. I stand behind him under the warm spray, soaping his back while he braces one hand on the tile wall.
My breasts press against his back through my soaked tank top. His cock is hard again, pointing up against his stomach and I reach around and stroke him slowly while the water cascades over us, but I refuse to let him turn around.
"No turning," I whisper against his shoulder blade. "Doctor’s orders."
"You’re enjoying this too much," he says through gritted teeth, but I hear the smile in his voice.
"Maybe I am." I stroke him until he cos again with a low curse, his release washing down the drain. I feel powerful and cruel and loving all at once.
We dry off and return to bed. I’m wearing one of his clean t-shirts and nothing else. Zane pulls close to his good side, his hand sliding under the hem to cup my ass. His fingers tease between my thighs, finding soaked.
"Let touch you at least," he murmurs, voice dark.
I’m about to say yes when his phone vibrates on the nightstand. Once. Twice. Then it starts ringing.
Zane glances at the screen and his entire body tenses. It’s an Unknown number amd its private...He answers on speaker so I can hear.
A distorted male voice cos through, calm and cold...it sounds like the person is trying very hard to cover his voice . "Glad you made it ho, Zane. Heard you had a rough night. Opened those stitches again fucking your wife, huh? Sloppy."
My blood turns to ice and I grab Zane’s arm.
"Who the hell is this?" Zane snarls. His protective energy surges even though he’s lying in bed, still weak.
The voice laughs softly. "Doesn’t matter. What matters is I know where you live. I know she’s there with you right now, probably still wet from taking care of you. Finish the job next ti, yeah? Or maybe I’ll co do it myself while you watch."
The line goes dead.
Zane throws the phone across the room. It hits the wall with a crack. "Son of a bitvh!"
He pulls tighter against him, even though the movent makes him wince. His jaw is locked, eyes burning with fury. "I won’t let him touch you. I don’t care if I have to crawl out of this bed."
"You’re not crawling anywhere," I say firmly, cupping his face. "You’re healing. We’ll call my brothers later. Right now, you’re staying in this bed."
He looks at , frustration and love and rage mixing in his expression. His hand slides between my thighs again, fingers finding my clit.
"Then let make you co. I need to feel you fall apart. Need to know you’re still mine while I’m stuck here like this."
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