Real life didn't intrude for the rest of the day, and I didn't rush it.
Having an alpha mate turned out to be pretty fucking fantastic. For one, I didn't have to walk anywhere anymore, it seemed like.
He carried me to the shower, washed me in the least efficient way possible—I mean, tongue baths worked for cats, but did it actually get you as clean as soap? I doubted it, not that I complained—and then carried me back to bed, where he got me even dirtier. At length.
For another, I didn't need to feed myself. Drew ordered pizza, put on a pair of pants just long enough to collect it at the door, and then brought it to me in bed. I wouldn't let him actually hand-feed me, even though he tried, but—pizza. Without even getting out of bed.
The list would've been a lot longer if he'd given me time to think about it.
He didn't.
