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Eden

There’s no such thing as a night that never ends.

For better or for worse.

Dom is militaristically exacting in his aftercare—he checks in with me like he’s receiving an after-operation report, watches me finish my water and snack with rigorous attention, and he bundles me into the freezing shower to wash me down with thorough, deliberate meticulousness.

I’m flushed and still shaking, my emotions crashing and lifting everywhere, and when I reach up to kiss him, his returned affection is stilted and perfunctory, too—like he’s checking a box.

He’s so precise, so determined, that it takes me over twenty trembling minutes to realize that’s exactly what he’s doing.

It’s my limits list, the aftercare section, where I ticked and noted down everything I might like: check-ins, food and water, cleaning or wound tending (by myself or my dominant), affection, kindness, cuddles...

“Get into bed, pet. I’ll hold you until you fall asleep,” Dom orders from the bathroom door, and my lips tilt up.

Right on time.

The anxiousness that was building in me settles as I realize what’s happening.

Bundled in a fluffy towel, I turn back to him. His towel is slung low on his waist, and I let myself enjoy the view before I glance up at his face. He frowns at me when I don’t obey, but this isn’t a scene, and this poor man is a mess.

“Sir... you don’t do this very often, do you?” I ask.

I don’t think I disguise my amusement well enough, because the dark brow that Dom kicks up is unimpressed.

“I didn’t come to you a virgin if that’s what you mean.”

I roll my eyes, sitting on the bed. He’s already replaced the sheets.

The last ones may need to be burned.

“I mean this part. The aftercare,” I correct softly, a little tentative, and he stiffens, tensing—enough that I feel bad for him, and I rush to add, “Beau did it, didn’t he? He took over that part?”

It’s a guess, but an educated one. I’ve seen and talked to both of them enough to gather that Beau tended to take the lead on emotional intimacy.

The dominance and discipline side, Dom has pretty well covered.

It’s not as though he wasn’t intimate tonight. He was. Between the fierce control, I felt his tenderness. I saw the appreciation and thrill and gratitude. We’ve been getting closer to this for weeks.

He just needs a little practice.

And I’ll just... not mention the fact that somehow, shockingly, even Jayk had better natural instincts for this.

Dom studies me from the doorway before, finally, he sighs.

“That obvious, huh?” he mutters. His jaw clenches, and he looks up, his golden eyes determined. “I’m sorry. What do you need, pet?”

I soften, smiling at him. My body is liquid and tingling, and now that I know his awkwardness isn’t him trying to escape, I can actually enjoy it.

“I could use a shirt?” I ask, and he nods, immediate relief breaking over his stern features.

My sweet, task-oriented man.

I take my hair out of its bun, and the release of tension makes me sigh. He passes me one of his shirts, and I slip it on gratefully, then catch his hand before he retreats, tugging him onto the bed beside me.

Tentatively, I crawl onto his lap and rest my head on his chest. My fingers play absently in his chest hair, and slowly, his arms come around me. His thumb begins to track hesitant lines over my thigh.

“Cuddling,” I explain.

Between his warmth and the sweet little touches, I begin to feel sleepy.

“It shouldn’t be a chore, sir. I just like you holding me. I like your smell.” I rub my cheek into him with a happy sigh. “I like to feel reminded that I’m more than just a toy when the scene is done. I love it during, but this... this is nice, too.”

Dom’s grip tightens. “Right.”

In seconds, he has me lifted up, and he resettles us against the headboard, tucking the sheets around me. And he keeps me between his legs, locked against his chest.

He rests his chin against my head, and his breath fans my hair.

“You’re not a toy, Eden. You never were.

You’re the smartest person I know. The kindest. You’re braver than you should have ever had to be.

That you’re all those things and still want to put yourself in my hands, that you let me play with that perfect fucking body, that you trust me with it—I don’t take it lightly.

” Dom’s voice turns rough on the last, and he tilts my head back so he’s looking at my face.

He’s as brutally intense as he was in the scene, but there’s an ache behind it as he finishes.

“You’re not a toy, Eden. You’re a formidable fucking woman. .. and you’re the love of my life.”

My lips part, my throat filling with stunned, pretty tears, and Dom’s mouth hooks up.

He presses a kiss to my forehead, then pulls me up closer. Another sigh fans out of him as he settles his cheek against my hair.

“And I like holding you, too,” he murmurs.

My fingers curl against his skin, and I smile into the curve of his neck.

After today, after the death and the misery and the guilt, I didn’t think I’d be capable of smiling for a long while.

But I’m not in the same place I was a few weeks ago.

I didn’t freeze tonight. Even when my feelings dipped and my fears rose, I was able to fight through it and do what I had to.

I have tools to help myself now. Work I’m still doing on myself.

And when I’m feeling brittle, I have a whole family here who believe in me even more than I do.

There’s too much good in my world to be swallowed by the bad.

They can live alongside one another, and I can let myself feel it all.

Eventually, Dom’s breathing begins to slow, and sleep begins to slide over me, too.

“You know,” I murmur against his chest, “for a dominant, you take direction very well.”

And I fall asleep with a stinging ass and Dom’s arms around me, with giggles still in my throat.