Oh. God. Oh, no.
He murmurs sweet nothings into my ear as he pulls out of me, but my mind is suddenly a million miles away.
“Are you okay?” he asks, worry etched into his every feature. “Did I hurt you?”
“We…um…a condom.”
His brow furrows as realization dawns. “Fuck. Seraphine. I—I’m so sorry. I should have made sure.” He stands and paces alongside the bed. “You entrusted me with something so precious and I didn’t even think to protect you!”
“Mateo.” His name leaves my lips on a soft cry.
In a flash, he’s back on the bed, hefting me onto his lap. “Are you on birth control?”
I shake my head as panic dots my vision. He’s going to hate me…he’s going to be so mad. I bet he regrets ever—
“Get out of your head, mariposita. If anyone here is to blame, it is me. I failed you and I am sorry.”
“It’s not your fault; it’s our fault.”
Mateo holds me against his chest and strokes my hair. “It’ll be okay.”
I sniffle. “What if—”
He tilts my head up and captures my lips in a kiss so tender it makes my insides feel like jelly. “Come what may, Seraphine, we will be fine.”
“Are…are you sure?” I ask, because how could he possibly mean that?
“Eres mi vida,” he whispers so quietly I’m not sure if he even really spoke at all.
“What?”
“Nada—it is nothing for you to worry about.” He moves me from his lap to the mattress and stands. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He takes my hand in his and ushers me into the bathroom. I’m grateful for his guidance, because my mind is currently like the ball in a pinball machine—it’s rocketing around, bouncing violently off every what-if imaginable.
He releases my hand and kneels in front of the tub. I tie my hair up into a bun as he starts a bath, adding a healthy squeeze of his own bodywash for bubbles. “In you go,” he quietly orders.
The warm water soothes my skin and the scent of his soap tickles my nose and calms the ricocheting thoughts of my brain.
“Can I wash you?”
His question surprises me, but I guess it shouldn’t; Mateo is a gentleman through and through.
“Sure.”
He grabs another washcloth and wets it before squirting a dollop of his bodywash onto it. With a softness that belies his size, he washes me from head to toe, taking special care between my legs.
“Are you sore?” he asks when I wince.
“Only a little.”
He looks troubled at the thought of me being in pain—even if it is minimal and oh-so-worth it. “Hey, it’s okay. I don’t have any regrets.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, the truth of them settles over me. Even though we didn’t use protection, I have no regrets. Sure, it was a reckless mistake and could have some pretty intense consequences, but Mateo said we would be okay no matter what, and maybe it makes me foolish, but I believe him.
“Tonight, what you gave me,” he says, “was a gift. Thank you.”
“Thank you for taking such good care of me. Under your touch, I feel cherished, loved even.” My cheeks heat. “Not that I’m saying you love me or anything, just that—oh, God. Talk about ruining a good night.”
I cover my face with my hands and contemplate sinking under the water to hide.
“Hey, no.” Mateo pulls my hands away from my flaming cheeks. “Don’t hide from me.”
“I am so embarrassed.”
“Why?” He truly sounds puzzled.
“Because I…I implied you love me!”
Just like in the parking lot at my father’s funeral, he skims his index knuckle down beneath my jaw to my chin and tilts my gaze up to his. “Because I do—I do love you, mariposita.”
Slack-jawed, all I can do is stare.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” His lips tilt up into a teasing grin.
“I…you love me?” I search his eyes, looking for any hint of deception. But they’re as open and honest as ever. “You really love me.”
“Sí, I do.”
I swallow roughly as happy tears wet my cheeks. “I love you, too.”
His grin morphs into a megawatt smile. “Say it again.”
“I love y—” He leans down and captures the end of my sentence in a hotly passionate kiss.
Water sloshes as he feasts upon my lips, our tongues slide together in a sensual dance until we have to break apart to breathe.
My chest is heaving and so is his.
“You relax,” he tells me, rising to his feet, not even trying to hide his massive erection. “Your lips are too tempting and you need to rest.”
“Where are you going?”
“To shower.”
I sink down into the hot water, letting it lull me as I reflect on all that’s happened not only tonight, but over the past couple of months.
Mateo turns the knob for the shower and steps under the spray. Unabashedly, I watch him, taking note of the way his sudsy hands move over his body. He’s poetry in motion, taut and toned perfection, so much so that even something as banal as cleaning himself is mesmerizing.
Too bad for me, the show’s over and he’s wrapped in a towel before I can truly appreciate it.
“How do you feel?” he asks, running a smaller towel over his hair.
“Really good.” My voice sounds sleepy to my own ears.
Mateo smiles. “I’ll be right back with a towel.”
He returns dressed in a pair of fresh boxers. “Let’s get you back into my bed.” He switches the lever to drain the tub before helping me up and out. I allow him to dry me off and lead me back into his bedroom, stark naked.
It’s kind of crazy how comfortable I feel around him. But it’s undeniable, too; something in him calls to something in me. Mateo Reyes feels like home.
“Are you ready for bed?” he asks right as a huge yawn escapes me. “I guess that is a yes.”
I shrug. “What can I say? You wore me out.”
A look of pure, masculine pride overtakes his features. “Damn straight. Now, let me get you a shirt.”
“I packed pajamas.”
“I want to see you in my shirt though.” He crosses the room to his dresser and pulls out a threadbare t-shirt. “Arms up.” I comply and he slides the shirt over my head. It’s softer than silk and smells like him.
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me; everything I do for you is my pleasure.”
I press up onto my tiptoes and kiss his cheek before getting into the bed.
Mateo crawls in after me, pulling me into his side so he’s wrapped around me big-spoon style. “Buenas noches, mariposita, te amo.”
“Good night, Mateo, I love you, too.”
I snuggle in deeper to his embrace, feeling lighter than I have in God knows how long, and within minutes, I’m lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of his heart, knowing that right now, it’s beating for me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mateo
The feeling of soft, supple flesh moving against my own wakes me. Seraphine is curled into me with her head nestled into my chest, her arm around my middle, and one of her legs is hiked over my own.