Dominick emerged from the bathroom, but ,the air of the bedroom feeling stiflingly warm despite the icy deluge he had just endured.
He wore only his trousers, a towel draped loosely around his neck as he worked to dry his damp hair. Sinking into a plush velvet chair, he let his arms fall heavily onto the rests and tilted his head back, staring at the ornate ceiling.
The cold water had dulled the edges of the heat, but the core of the rut still smoldered deep within his bones.
"I want to hold her close," he whispered, the confession escaping his lips before he could catch it. He turned his head, watching Jeniva's peaceful expression. She looked so defenseless, so certain of her safety. It hit him then: she trusted him far more than he deserved.
'I fucking hate this,' he seethed internally. 'The Moon Goddess truly believes I'll just bow to this forced bond and embrace whatever fate she's seen fit to throw in my path.'
