Page 17

CHAPTER 17

J onah woke up the minute Elora entered the room despite how quiet she was. He might have been in pain and suffering from a head injury, but now that he was starting to heal, his survival instinct had returned to full force.

He kept his eyes closed as she sat on the side of the bed before brushing her hand across his cheek. He smiled and opened his eyes. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she said.

The only light came from the hallway, and it wasn’t enough to see her face clearly, but she sounded tired.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“About the same,” he said.

She sighed. “I couldn’t get the healing paste right. I tried, like, seven times, and each time, it went terribly wrong.”

“Hey, the house hasn’t burned down, so it couldn’t have gone that wrong,” he said.

She didn’t reply, and he took her hand with his left. “Sorry, that was a shitty joke.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m just frustrated and angry with myself.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “I appreciate you trying.”

“I’m taking the spell to Charissa tomorrow,” Elora said. “I’ll get her to help me make the paste, okay?”

“Only if you want to,” he said.

“I do. It’s the only way to fix your hand,” she said.

“I know a guy who can set the bone and cast it,” he said.

“Is he actually a doctor?” she asked.

“He used to be,” he said.

“I’m healing it,” she said in a firm voice. “But it won’t be until tomorrow, which means you’ll be in pain for another day.”

“It’s fine, little witch,” he said. “It isn’t that bad.”

She made a disbelieving snorting sound that shouldn’t have been adorable but was.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Just after eight. Cece’s gone home, she has to work in the morning, but she made the fresh paste for your back and head. If you feel up to it, I’ll get you to come into the bathroom with me so I can rinse off the old stuff first,” Elora said.

He sat up, swaying a little at the wave of dizziness, and Elora gripped his forearms. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just dizzy,” he said.

“Walk slowly,” she said as he slid out of bed. “I won’t be able to pick you up off the floor if you pass out.”

He grinned as she carefully slid her arm around his hips in a tight grip. “I won’t pass out, little witch.”

Despite his assurance, she wouldn’t let him walk faster than a snail’s pace as they left the guest room and headed to his bedroom. Once they were in the bathroom, he shook his head when she picked up the washcloth.

“I want to shower,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It is,” he said.

“I know you have a thing about showering every day, but -”

“I’m showering, Elora,” he said in a ‘we are not discussing this’ tone.

“Fine.” She scowled at him before brushing past him and turning on the shower.

She stripped off her shirt, and he immediately looked away from her perfect tits. She wore a simple cotton bra, but it had the same effect on him as if she wore a sexy lace push-up bra.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting in the shower with you,” she said. “You’ll need my help.”

“No, I don’t,” he said.

“Your hand is broken, Jonah. And unless you’ve suddenly switched from being right handed to left handed, you’ll need my help in the shower.”

“I’ll manage,” he said, gritting his teeth when she yanked her pants down her legs. She wore cotton boy shorts, and there was nothing at all sexy about them, but his cock reacted like she wore a barely there thong.

“Why are you being ridiculous about this?” she asked. “We’ve showered together before.”

“That was different.”

“How?” she asked.

“I wasn’t in my human form and naked,” he said.

“Sure, but I’ve seen you naked when you hopped out of my bed after I broke the curse, remember? Try again,” she said.

“Elora…”

“You could pass out or slip and fall. You’re already injured enough, and I won’t let you be further injured. Unless you give me a good reason beyond suddenly playing shy, I am helping you shower, Jonah.”

He glared at her. “I can’t control myself around you, Elora. I’m already half-hard, just staring at you in your goddamn underwear! If you get in the shower with me, I will get an erection and then…”

“Then what?” she asked. “You’re in no shape to fuck me, and this might come as a shock to you, but I’ve seen an erect dick before.”

He grumbled a curse, and they stood silently for nearly a minute. Elora folded her arms across her torso and raised one dark eyebrow. “Buddy, I’m still waiting for a better reason than you don’t want me seeing your happy little ding dong.”

He gaped at her before bursting into laughter. It hurt his back and his throbbing skull, but he couldn’t stop. He laughed until his stomach hurt, his face ached, and it was hard to catch his breath. When he finally got control of himself, Elora said, “Better?”

“Yeah.” He scrubbed his good hand across his face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “I figured you needed either a bout of hysterical laughter or sobbing after what you’ve been through.”

“I don’t cry,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t. Look, I’ll keep my underwear on in the shower, okay?”

“Yes, because you in see-through panties and bra won’t at all be an issue,” he said.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, and it hit him in a rush how exhausted she looked. Guilt flooded through him, and he put an arm around her, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Please let me help you,” she said.

He nodded, and without speaking, she helped him out of his boxer briefs, and they stepped into the shower together. While he was grateful that the walk-in shower was large and he had plenty of space to avoid brushing up against Elora’s wet body, neither the space nor his exhaustion and pain prevented his cock from hardening.

Before he could apologize, Elora said, “It doesn’t upset me, Jonah. Duck your head under the water.”

He ducked under the spray, relief and a sense of normalcy washing over him as the hot water soaked his hair. He stepped back, and Elora lathered his hair with shampoo, gently cleaning away the paste and the blood. He hissed out a breath when she brushed over his head wound and she pressed a gentle kiss against his arm.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” His voice was hoarse, and his cock throbbed painfully with the need for release. Christ, this was such a bad idea.

He ducked under the spray again and rinsed the shampoo from his hair. Elora’s dark hair stuck damply to her face, and she shook it back impatiently. He looked away from her jiggling breasts. The wet cotton had molded to them and showed off her tight pink nipples, and his urge to suck on them through the fabric was nearly undeniable.

“Turn around,” she said.

He turned, and she rinsed the paste from his back before carefully washing his skin with soap-covered hands. He groaned and bent his head, enjoying her touch and the feeling of finally being clean.

She washed his ass and the back of his legs with brisk movements before guiding him into turning around. She soaped her hands again and washed his arms and shoulders and his left hand but left his swollen, throbbing right hand untouched.

He stared at her smooth, wet skin, studying the tiny droplets of water that dripped down her chest and into the hollow between her breasts. His cock was a huge, hard thing between them, and he groaned when she leaned forward, and the tip of his cock brushed against her abdomen.

“Sorry,” she said.

He stared at the smear of precum he’d left on her belly, embarrassment rocketing through him. Christ, he had no self-control.

“No, I’m sorry,” he rasped.

She cleaned his flat belly, her fingers tracing the line of dark hair below his belly button, and he moaned and grabbed her wrist. “Stop,” he choked out. “If you touch my dick, I’ll come all over your damn hand.”

She stared up at him, her blue eyes the colour of an ocean storm, her cheeks flushed from more than just the heat of the shower. “Let me touch you, Jonah.”

“Elora, I…”

“Please,” she said.

He released her hand, his gaze arrowed in on hers. When her lips parted, he bent his head and kissed her, pushing his tongue past the barrier of her lips to claim what was his.

She returned his kiss, her soft lips perfect against his. When her soap-slicked hand curled around his aching dick, he yanked his mouth free and made a harsh moan. “Elora, I need…”

“I know,” she whispered. “I know, Jonah.”

She stroked him once, twice, three times, and with a hoarse howl, his orgasm hit him like a speeding bullet, sending cum spewing from his cock in long thick ropes to land on Elora’s smooth stomach.

He shook wildly, gritting his teeth against the pain that refused to fade even through the most intense orgasm of his life. His knees were starting to buckle, and he slapped his left hand against the slick tile wall in a desperate bid to hold himself up.

Elora crowded close, her body small but sturdy against his as she put her arms around his hips and steadied him. “You’re okay, honey. Take some deep breaths.”

He sucked in a deep lungful of the steamy air. After a few minutes, he said, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

She kissed his chest and stepped back, watching him carefully. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Jonah. Can you stand on your own?”

“Yes,” he said.

She finished soaping him clean, washing his still sensitive cock with gentle movements before washing his legs and feet. She nudged him out of the way of the shower spray and rinsed away his cum from her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“I’m not,” she said.

She shut off the shower and stepped out onto the bathmat, grabbing one of the towels and wrapping it around herself before urging him to join her on the mat.

She dried him carefully before wrapping the towel around his waist. “I’ll be right back.”

When she returned, she had a big mason jar of the green paste. She applied it in a thick layer to his back, and despite how much he hated being covered in it, Jonah had to admit that it provided instant and cooling relief to his throbbing skin.

She applied some paste to his head and checked his forehead. “I think the mark on your forehead is good. It’s almost completely healed.”

He nodded, exhaustion and pain making his body droop. She led him to the bedroom, and he sat on the side of the bed. Fresh sheets were on the bed, and he squeezed her hand. “Thank you for changing the sheets.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t lie down yet,” she said.

She left and returned with - his nose wrinkled - more of Charissa’s healing potion. He wanted to protest drinking it like a little kid, but instead, he drank the entire glass, willing his gorge to stay put as he handed the empty glass back to Elora.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, just really fucking tired.”

“Okay.” She helped him into bed and onto his right side, pulling the covers to his waist.

“Stay with me?” he asked.

She nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. When she returned, she was wearing her favourite cotton pajama set. She climbed into the bed beside him, pushing her damp hair away from her neck.

He rested his left hand on her hip, staring at her in the dim light from the bedside lamp. “You look exhausted.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Gee, thanks.”

“I’m worried you’re doing too much for me,” he said. “Have you slept at all?”

“I didn’t get much last night because I was worried I’d set your bedroom on fire by reciting spells in my sleep,” she said. “But I did a fireproof protection spell on your bedroom earlier today, so if I recite spells and light some fires while I’m sleeping, they shouldn’t actually burn anything.”

Jonah smoothed a strand of hair away from her cheek. “A fireproof spell is hard to do.”

“It is,” she admitted.

“I’m proud of you, little witch,” he said.

“Thank you.” She smiled warmly at him. “Although, I think that might partially be why I couldn’t get the healing paste to work. The protection spell weakens my magic and will for a bit until I get used to it.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “My hand doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Liar,” she said with a soft smile.

He rubbed her hip, blinking back his exhaustion and the pain with effort. He needed to make Elora feel good like she had done for him.

“Little witch, will you let me make you come?”

She studied him before shaking her head. “No, you’re tired and in pain. You need to rest, Jonah.”

“What I need is to make you feel good.”

“You can do that when you feel better,” she said.

“Elora, I don’t like taking without giving,” he said.

“Special circumstances,” she said.

He started to protest, and she shook her head. “We both need sleep.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, giving in with a grumpy acceptance.

She hesitated and then wiggled closer, resting her hand lightly on his hip and being careful not to touch his right hand as he draped his arm over her waist and pressed a kiss against her mouth. “Goodnight, Elora.”

“Goodnight, Jonah.”