Sunny - Mona Lisa Blossoming

I brought the wet cloth gently to his face and brushed it over his forehead. At that first touch, Dontaine's eyes closed, and the tension gripping him eased, freeing me of my tension as well. He was relaxed and still as I smoothed the cool cloth over his cheek, down his jaw. His eyes opened, and I felt his gaze touching me as I wiped his shoulder, moved down his long arm, and cleaned each finger. He kept his gaze fixed upon me, the harsh sound of his breath whistling in and out of that hole in his throat as I gently washed him.

"I do have some healing ability," I said to Dontaine softly, apologetically, "but it's not something I have much control over." I felt those green eyes shift to Amber. Knew that he noted Amber's healed state. Knew that he could smell our commingled scents, and once more yearned for that shower. I felt his glance return to me, and felt the question hover in the air as if it had been asked aloud. Why couldn't I heal him like I had healed Amber ?

I didn't bother to answer it.

"I'm sorry," I said instead. And I was. But he wasn't dying. He was healing miraculously fast on his own. I was not going to fuck him.

But the pain from his wounds… that I could do something about. Putting down the cloth, I laid one palm over the deep slash that began at his shoulder. My other palm came to rest where the wound ripped across his bicep. Amber's dagger had not been silver, so instead of gaping wide, the flesh had already pulled together, beginning to knit, fill in. Amazing.

Sometimes you forget how intimate touching someone really is. It requires closeness, your skin against theirs, feeling the softness of their flesh, the suppleness of their muscles, the little downy hairs covering the surface. It was even more intimate when they looked at you, and you looked at them. He was cooperating. I had no need to capture him with my eyes, hold him in my thrall. I doubted I even could; he wasn't human. I kept my eyes fixed instead on my hands.

A bare flexing of will, summoning a part of me that was always there, like my beast. But this power I welcomed, was unafraid of. And it came to my call, awakening from the core of me, flooding me with a cool rush beginning from my heart and spilling down my arms, into my hands. Those pearly moles, the Goddess's Tears, embedded in the hearts of my palms, tingled and heated. Like a knowing, living thing, the power seeped under Dontaine's skin, assessing the damage, and removing the pain.

When it was done, I lifted my hands, feeling his intent gaze hard upon me. Folding back the dirty washcloth to reveal a clean side, I began washing Dontaine's other arm, reaching across him. "I cannot heal you, but I can ease some of your pain," I said, my eyes on the washcloth as it moved over him.

I felt Dontaine's attention leave me, focus behind me, and when I turned, I saw that Gryphon had returned. He set the supplies he had brought on top of the bureau.

"Where's Amber?" I asked.

"He left."

"Why did he do that?"

"Dontaine will be able to rest easier if Amber is not here," Gryphon said, turning to pick up a basin he had brought. A natural move, but one that allowed him not to meet my eyes. Gryphon went into the bathroom, filled the basin with water, and set it by my side, his presence breaking the tense awareness between Dontaine and I. Gratefully, I rinsed the bloody cloth in the basin, wrung it dry, and began cleaning Dontaine's chest, moving the cloth carefully over the injured areas, pressing my warm tingling palm over his wounds.

It wasn't until I reached Dontaine's abdomen that I grew uncomfortable once more. A distinct bulge had risen, impossible to ignore. He couldn't help it, I told myself. It was the natural reaction to being so close to a Queen, to being touched by her. But still… my hands fluttered and my eyes didn't seem to know where to look.

Gryphon didn't help when he murmured, "Let me help you remove his pants." He stepped forward.

Beneath my hand, Dontaine's relaxed muscles sprang alive, bunched and ready, almost vibrating with tension. His lips drew back in a silent snarl and his hands—powerful hands that had remained still and quiescent while I had cared for him—lifted, fingers curled like claws in clear warning.

Gryphon stilled and backed away slowly. "It seems that you must do so."

I wanted to say Dontaine actually didn't need to be changed, after all. But that would have been too cowardly and too obvious after I had made such an issue of cleaning him, and having Gryphon fetch clean clothes for him.

"Let me wash his back first," I said instead, grateful to move on to a less provocative area of his body. I rinsed the washcloth again in the basin, then hesitated. It didn't seem a good idea to move behind Dontaine where he would not be able to see me. Lifting up from my knees, I sat on the edge of the bed in the little vee of mattress space where Dontaine's stomach curved around. I had to lean in close, almost pressing against Dontaine's chest to reach his back. It was an awkward position, but it worked. I quickly, carefully washed his back, skimmed my tingling palm over the gashes and stab wounds, and looked down to see how he was faring. A mistake. The heat in his eyes, the look on his face, had me shifting unconsciously back. Another mistake. Just that small movement and something hard and happy was pressed up against my hip. I'd forgotten how close to him I'd been. Almost sitting in his lap.

Dontaine's right hand slowly reached out. I watched it like a mesmerized rabbit watched a weaving cobra before it struck. Watched it come closer and closer until he finally touched me, his hand coming to rest fully, heavily on my hip, his fingers splayed. He was injured, weak. But his touch was not that of a patient thanking his nurse. His touch was questioning, questing, almost a claiming. Asking permission to move up… or down.

I drew in a sharp breath and my eyes shot to his, held his, as my left hand slowly came up to cover his hand and to remove it from me. I slid off the mattress, back down to my knees, and put that dangerous roaming hand gently on the space I had just vacated.

Forget being obvious or cowardly. No way was I taking off his pants.

I cleared my throat. "His pants are fine. I'm… uh, just going to change his sheets." Mentally I cringed when my voice came out lower and huskier than usual.

"Are you sure?" Gryphon asked. It sounded like he was smiling at me but I didn't look up to see if he truly was.

I nodded, not looking at either of them. Men. Nothing but trouble. Even when you were trying to help them.

I gathered the clean linen Gryphon had brought in. "Dontaine, I'm going to go behind you now to loosen and roll up the bed sheet."

Again that silent warning snarl.

"All right. Maybe not," I said, trying to work out the logistics in my mind. "Then I'm going to have to kneel on the mattress in front of you and bend over you to loosen the dirty sheet and secure the clean sheet."

No snarl. Apparently that was fine with him. Dontaine scooted back to make more room for me, a clear invitation.

"I'll roll both the dirty sheet and the clean sheet behind you. You'll have to lift yourself up, and I'll roll them both underneath you to this side." Staring hard at him, I said, "No hanky-panky while I do this."

Dontaine's teeth flashed in a wolfish grin. Obviously he was feeling better. His breathing still whistled, but it was easier, less desperate. And I wasn't sure, but I think the wound in his throat had filled in even more. If I stared and kept my eyes fixed on it, I wouldn't see the healing. But look away and then look back minutes later, and you could see a small difference. It was like a flower slowly unfurling. The minute actions themselves were invisible. But you could note the progress.

I knelt in front of him, my weight sinking into the mattress so that Dontaine rolled against me. But he was behaving himself. He kept his hands off me. I leaned over him, tugged the sheet loose, rolled it up, and secured the new sheet as best as I could, all the while sharply-aware of Dontaine's bare skin, his bare body, pressed up against my legs. "Lift up," I said. He did, shifting easily. I eased off the mattress, and rolled the bundle beneath him, stripping off the stained sheet and tucking in the new one. "There. All done," I said, stepping back.