Moisture fills her eyes and her laughing turns into sobbing.

As I wrap my arms around her, we sink to the ledge of the large clawfoot tub. I hold her, allowing her to cry as much as she needs to. Every now and then, I pet her hair and kiss the top of her head.

Eventually, her sobs turn to whimpers, and her whimpers get replaced by hiccups.

I turn on the faucet. Steamy water fills the bath, and I toss in a few pleasant-smelling soaps I normally don’t use. Making quick work of Zella’s corsets, I undress her. I try not to be too allured by her naked body, but the sight is still so new and wonderful.

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever get used to how gorgeous you are.”

“I hope you don’t,” she responds, stepping into the water. She perches on the side of the tub, and I like the way her flesh spreads when she’s sitting down. Everything about her backside is beautiful, from the smooth skin on her shoulders to the flare of her hips. Glancing over her shoulder, she glares at my covered body. “One of us is wearing too much.”

At least she’s still feisty.

I strip, enjoying the way her eyes widen when she sees my erection. My body hasn’t seemed to get the memo about danger and tragedy. I’ve been hard all day.

Smirking, I join her in the water, pulling her down in front of me, her back to my front. A small gasp escapes her when she feels my cock against the crack of her ass.

I won’t apologize for wanting her, even if the timing is inappropriate.

But as much as I want to maul her, I won’t.

Instead, I stay silent and find one of the flower-shaped soaps floating by my leg. I encase Zella’s body with my arms while lathering it in my palms.

Then I begin to wash her.

I run my sudsy hands over her stomach. Her arms. Her chest.

When I glide over her nipples, she moans and arches her body. Her hand comes up to the back of my neck as she spreads her legs wide. She hooks her ankles on the outside of mine and wiggles impatiently against me.

If that isn’t an invite, I don’t know what is.

When my fingers find her center, she’s slick there, and it isn’t from the water.

Grasping her waist, I lift her up and line myself up with her entrance. I bring her down on my cock, impaling her body with a hard thrust.

She cries out, but it’s from pleasure, not pain. Through the bond, I can feel the endorphins rushing between us.

Maybe the timing isn’t wrong.

She needs this now.

She needs me.

I’m the only one who can heal her heart.