Omega supervises her efforts, concerned but doing nothing to steer her or prompt her to go any faster than she wants. But the way she touches her own skin baffles him with its revulsion; he has never found a single part of her that he wouldn't worship with his hands and mouth, given the choice.

But Blue can barely take it. And suddenly she's hurling the washcloth away from her like a poisonous snake and all but hurling herself into the door, and Omega bolts forward in alarm.

"Blue!" He catches her hand, clasps it tightly in his own and pulls it against his chest, determined and grounding, and he presses a hand to her shoulder that slides to cup her neck. Her heart is pounding. "You're all right. You're done. That's enough."