KAY POV :

My eyes fluttered open slowly, still heavy with sleep and disoriented from the long night. For a moment, I couldn't understand why my body felt so warm—so relaxed. Then I felt her. Vanessa was pressed against my chest beneath the tangled blankets, her soft body molded perfectly against mine while the faint scent of strawberries and sex still lingered thickly in the air of our bedroom.

And suddenly—everything came rushing back.

Every kiss.

Every sound she made beneath me.

Every desperate touch from last night.

The way she'd shattered under my mouth.

The way she'd begged for more.

The way she'd clung to me like I was the only thing keeping her tethered to this world.

The memories hit me hard and vivid, flashing behind my eyes with brutal clarity. But instead of guilt, instead of regret for crossing a line we were never supposed to cross, something darker settled deep inside my chest. Something possessive. Territorial.

Mine.

The thought came so naturally it startled me. My arms tightened around her waist instinctively, pulling her closer against me before I even realized what I was doing. I buried my face slightly into her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo mixed with the remnants of last night, and a strange sense of satisfaction spread through me. She smells like me now, I realized. Mixed with her own sweetness. Perfect.

Then her small voice shattered the haze clouding my mind.

"Jake, can you let me go? I need to take a shower!!"

I blinked, finally forcing myself back into reality as I looked down at her. The blanket had slipped low enough for me to realize both of us were still completely naked beneath it, our legs tangled together carelessly after hours of exhaustion and passion.

And then I saw them.

The marks.

The hickeys scattered across her neck, collarbone, and soft skin. The bruises my mouth had left behind during the night. Evidence of everything we had done.

My jaw tightened instantly because I already knew Jake was going to lose his mind once he noticed them. And somehow… that thought satisfied me far more than it should have.

A dark sense of pride twisted inside me as my eyes traced every mark I had left on her body.

Mine.

The possessiveness returned even stronger this time, curling dangerously inside my chest.

But then I looked at her properly. Really looked at her.

She looked exhausted. Her movements were slower, careful, and I immediately realized she was probably still sore from last night. My chest tightened slightly with guilt because I knew I had been too intense with her. Too rough. Too consumed by my own need to stop myself.

"Are you okay, my love?" My voice came out softer than expected, filled with concern as my eyes locked onto her face. "Are you hurting?"

I lifted one hand to cup her cheek gently, brushing my thumb across her warm skin. The second my fingers touched her, her breath hitched softly, and something about that small reaction made my chest ache.

"I'm fine… just a little bit hurting and sore!!" she stuttered over the last words, her cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment.

A low chuckle escaped me before I could stop it. Even after everything we had done last night, she was still shy. Still adorable.

"I'm sorry," I murmured quietly, guilt finally creeping into my voice. "I was too rough on you."

I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead, holding it there for a second longer than necessary. Unlike last night's desperate hunger, this kiss was gentle—careful.

"Let me take care of you today," I whispered softly, my voice filled with genuine concern as I held her closer against me, not ready to let her go just yet.

But I didn't just say the words. I meant them.

I slowly disentangled myself from her, careful not to jostle her too much, and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The cool air hit my skin, but I barely noticed. My focus was entirely on her—on the way she winced slightly as she shifted beneath the blanket, on the dark marks mottling her throat and chest.

I did that, I thought, a mix of pride and tenderness warring in my chest. But now I fix it.

"Stay right there," I said, my voice firm but gentle. "Don't move. I'll be back in a minute."

She looked up at me with those tired, questioning eyes, but didn't argue. Good girl.

I padded to the bathroom, my feet silent against the hardwood, and turned on the shower. I adjusted the temperature carefully—not too hot, not too cold. Warm enough to soothe her sore muscles, cool enough not to irritate her sensitive skin. While the water heated up, I grabbed a clean towel from the cabinet, the softest one we owned, and laid it over the rack.

Then I went back to the bedroom.

Vanessa had tried to sit up, her arms trembling slightly as she pushed herself upright. The blanket pooled around her waist, exposing her bare chest, and I felt that familiar heat stir in my gut. But I pushed it down. Not now. She needs care, not more claiming.

"Shh," I said, crossing to her in three long strides. "I told you to stay."

I scooped her up before she could protest—one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back. She let out a small gasp, her hands flying to my shoulders for balance, and I carried her to the bathroom like she weighed nothing.

"Jake, I can walk—"

"I know you can," I interrupted, my voice soft but unyielding. "But you don't have to. Not right now."

I set her down gently on the edge of the tub, my hands lingering on her waist to make sure she was steady. Then I reached into the shower, testing the water with my wrist the way I'd seen nurses do in movies. Perfect.

"Come here, love."

I helped her step into the shower, one hand gripping hers for support, the other steadying her lower back as she crossed the lip of the tub. The water cascaded over her, darkening her hair, tracing rivulets down her neck and shoulders. She let out a soft sigh as the warmth enveloped her, her eyes fluttering closed.

Good. She's relaxing.

I stepped in behind her, not caring that the water was soaking me too. I reached for the shampoo—the one that smelled like coconut and vanilla, the one she always used—and squeezed a generous amount into my palm.

"Lean your head back," I instructed, my voice a low murmur against her ear.

She obeyed, tilting her head back against my chest, and I began to work the shampoo into her hair. My fingers moved slowly, deliberately, massaging her scalp in firm circles that made her moan softly. The sound sent a jolt straight to my groin, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand.

This is about her. Her comfort. Her healing.

I worked the lather through every strand, taking my time, making sure I didn't miss a single spot. When I rinsed, I cupped my hands to shield her eyes from the water, letting it run down the rest of her hair. Then I followed with conditioner, leaving it in while I moved to her body.

I grabbed the body wash and a soft loofah, lathering it until it was thick and fragrant. Then I started at her shoulders, drawing slow, gentle circles across her skin. She leaned into my touch, her head falling back against my chest, and I felt her tension begin to melt away.

"I'm sorry for last night," I repeated, my voice rough. "I should have been more careful."

"You didn't hear me complaining," she mumbled, a hint of her usual sass bleeding through her exhaustion. I smirked, but the guilt still lingered.

I worked the loofah down her arms, over her stomach, across her hips. When I reached her thighs, I was extra careful—gentle, slow, mindful of the soreness she'd mentioned. She hissed softly when I brushed against her inner thighs, and I paused immediately.

"Too much?"

"No," she whispered. "Just... sensitive."

I nodded, filing that information away, and continued with featherlight touches. I washed her legs, her feet, even between her toes, kneeling in the water to reach her properly. When I stood back up, I guided her to turn around, and I washed her back, her shoulders, the small of her spine.

By the time I was done, she was practically boneless against me, her eyes half-closed, a soft smile playing on her lips.

I turned off the water and wrapped her in the fluffy towel I'd set aside, drying her with the same careful attention I'd used to wash her. I patted her skin dry—avoiding any rough rubbing—and when I was satisfied, I carried her back to the bedroom.

I laid her down on the fresh sheets I'd somehow managed to change while she was dozing against me in the bathroom. She looked up at me, her eyes soft and grateful, and I felt my chest swell with something that went beyond possession.

This is what it means to have her. Not just the claiming. The care after.

I grabbed a tube of aloe vera gel from the nightstand—I kept it for sunburns, but it worked wonders for sore skin too—and squeezed some into my palm. "Roll onto your stomach," I said, my voice gentle but leaving no room for argument.

She obeyed, and I began to work the cool gel into her shoulders, her back, the curve of her ass. She sighed with relief as the soothing liquid touched her skin, and I felt her muscles relax under my hands. I took my time, massaging every knot, every tense spot, until she was practically purring beneath me.

Then I flipped her over and did the same to her front—her arms, her stomach, her hips. When I reached her thighs, I was even more careful, using the lightest touch to spread the gel over the marks I'd left there. She watched me through half-lidded eyes, her expression soft and trusting.

I don't deserve this trust, I thought. But I'll spend every day earning it.

Finally, I helped her into one of my softest t-shirts—the worn one that hung past her thighs—and guided her back into bed. I pulled the covers up to her chin and tucked them around her, making sure she was warm and comfortable.

Then I heard a knock on the door, and irritation instantly crawled through me. I already knew who it was. Luckily, I had locked the door before falling asleep, meaning Jake and Emily couldn’t just burst into our bedroom uninvited.

My jaw tightened as another knock echoed through the room.

“What?!” I snapped out sharply, annoyance dripping from my voice.

Beside me, Vanessa let out a small amused smile at my tone, and the sight of it immediately softened something inside my chest. A smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. Even exhausted and sore, she still found me entertaining.

“Can we come in?!” Jake called from behind the door, but beneath his voice, I could hear it clearly—the urgency. The jealousy burning underneath every word. As if he had any right to feel jealous after everything he’d done.

My expression darkened instantly.

“No. We’re resting,” I answered coldly while sitting down beside Vanessa again. My hand immediately found her cheek, my thumb stroking softly across her warm skin as if touching her grounded me.

“It’s already nine in the morning!” Jake argued from outside the door.

I scoffed quietly, annoyance flaring hotter inside me. If only he knew exactly why she could barely move right now. But I wasn’t about to say that aloud. Vanessa was already shy enough about what happened between us last night, and the last thing I wanted was for her to feel embarrassed or overwhelmed.

“So what?” I shot back, my voice edged with irritation. “Vanessa still hasn’t fully recovered from her car accident yet.”

The excuse rolled off my tongue easily. It wasn’t entirely a lie—she still wasn’t fully healed—but I also knew the real reason she looked so exhausted this morning was because of me. Because I had spent the entire night completely consumed by her. The soreness in her body, the slow careful movements, the marks scattered across her skin…

All my fault.

A strange mix of guilt and possessiveness twisted inside my chest again.

“Anyway, leave. We’ll come downstairs when we want to,” I added firmly, leaving no room for further argument.

Silence followed for a second before Vanessa suddenly spoke beside me, her voice soft and slightly sleepy.

“I’m hungry, Jake.”

Immediately, all my attention snapped back to her.

The irritation faded from my face almost instantly as I looked down at her. Her hair was still messy from sleep, her cheeks slightly flushed, and she looked impossibly soft wrapped beneath my sheets wearing my shirt.

God.

Something dangerously tender settled inside my chest.

“I’ll order us some food,” I said immediately, my voice gentler now. My thumb continued caressing her cheek absentmindedly as I held her gaze. “Anything you want, love.”

And I meant it.

Right now, I would give her absolutely anything she asked for.