Chapter 552: The Good Familiar
"Maki is not making it weird. Maki is helping. Maki is a very good familiar."
Her thumbs worked into the base of my skull, pressing against the occipital ridge with a strength that surprised me. Maki was small and soft and spent most of her time pretending to be helpless, but she was a Platinum-tier supernatural predator. Her fingers contained enough force to crack walnuts.
Right now they were doing something to my neck that should probably be illegal.
"Where did you learn this?"
"Previous master liked neck rubs."
"The one you killed."
"He was boring. And bad at petting. Master is much better."
Her hands moved down my shoulders and across the width of my back, fingers walking along the ridge of my spine like she was reading a map. Every point of contact sent another wave of relief rolling through abused muscle tissue. The water sloshed gently against the stone sides of the tub as she repositioned herself, sliding around to my side so she could reach my back properly.
The shift put her very close. Her bare hip pressed against my thigh beneath the water. One of her breasts compressed against my bicep with a soft, warm weight that my body registered with extreme clarity despite my brain’s best efforts at maintaining professionalism.
"Maki wants to wash Master."
"I can wash myself."
"Master can also fight monsters by himself. But having help makes it better."
She didn’t wait for permission. Maki never waited for permission. She found a washcloth hanging from the rack beside the tub, dunked it in the water, and began running it across my shoulders in slow, deliberate strokes. The rough texture of the cloth against my overworked skin felt like salvation.
Her body pressed closer as she worked, leaning into me to reach the far shoulder, and the soft compression of her chest against my back was warm and distracting and profoundly unfair. Her breath came in small, focused puffs against my ear. Each exhale carried a faint vibration that I realized was purring. Low and constant and so deep I felt it in my sternum.
The purring intensified as she moved the cloth down my arm, carefully avoiding the pink scar tissue from my burns. Her fingers traced the healed skin with a featherlight touch.
"The fire thing did this?"
"Arborist. Different fire."
"Master has too many scars for someone so young."
"I’m eighteen."
"Maki is three hundred and something. Master is a baby."
She moved to my chest, the washcloth tracing across my pectorals in broad, sweeping arcs. The water had turned my skin pink from the heat, and every pass of the cloth left temporary white lines that faded back to red within seconds. Maki’s face was very close now. Her eyes tracked the movement of the washcloth with predatory attention, watching the water trail across my chest like she was tracking prey through underbrush.
Then she set the washcloth aside.
"Maki wants to try something."
"What are you—"
She leaned forward and pressed her mouth against my chest. Not a kiss. Not quite. Her tongue emerged, rough and warm and textured in a way that was distinctly feline, and she licked a long, slow stripe up the center of my sternum. Water and salt and skin. She collected the droplets with a cat’s attention to grooming, her tongue rasping across the surface in a way that sent signals down my spine that had nothing to do with relaxation.
I went absolutely still.
Maki looked up at me through her lashes. Water dripped from her chin. Her pupils were blown so wide that the gold was just a thin ring around endless black.
"Master tastes good."
"Maki."
"Like warmth and metal and the thing that happens before a storm." She licked again. Lower this time, tongue dragging across the ridge of my abdominal muscles where they met the waterline. Her rough tongue collected water in slow, thorough passes. Methodical. Patient. Like she was bathing me the way a cat bathes a kitten, except nothing about this resembled anything maternal.
Her hands found my hips beneath the water and held me in place. Not forcefully. Just enough to communicate that she wanted me to stay still while she worked.
Another lick. This one traveled the groove between my pectoral muscles, following the ridge of bone and tissue all the way to the hollow at the base of my throat. Her tongue lingered there, lapping at the droplets that had pooled in the dip.
My hands gripped the sides of the tub. Stone. Cold stone. The contrast with the hot water and the hotter tongue moving across my skin was enough to keep me grounded. Barely.
"You need to stop."
"Why?"
"Because Natalia can smell things that happened in rooms she wasn’t in. She has a psychic nose, Maki. She will detect this."
"Master smells like bath water and soap and Master. Maki is only cleaning." Another lick. Along my collarbone this time. The rough texture of her tongue against the sensitive skin there pulled a sound out of me that I would deny under oath.
Her tails surfaced from the water and wrapped around my left arm with a gentle, possessive pressure. The fur was sleek and wet and impossibly soft, clinging to my skin like silk.
Maki shifted her weight and straddled my lap. Her knees pressed against the outside of my thighs, her body hovering above mine with only the water connecting us. The tips of her breasts skimmed the surface, nipples dark against porcelain skin. She placed both hands flat on my chest, fingers spread wide, and leaned down until her nose touched my collarbone.
She inhaled. Deep. The sound of it was obscene in the quiet bathroom, a long, shuddering breath that pulled my scent into her lungs and made her entire body tremble.
"Master’s heartbeat is fast."
"You’re sitting on me. Naked."
"Maki is always naked."
"That’s not the defense you think it is."
She licked my throat. Slow. From the juncture where my neck met my shoulder all the way up to the hinge of my jaw. Her tongue left a glistening trail that cooled instantly in the steam. The purring in her chest deepened into a frequency I felt in my teeth.
"Maki loves Master."
