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Overwhelmed, his body weak with an exhaustion unlike any he'd ever experienced, he watched her move around the bathroom like a pleasant dream. Testing the water in the Jacuzzi tub, setting out towels, soaps, shampoo.
When she was ready, she came to him. He opened his knees at her approach and she stepped between them as he'd hoped she would. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he clasped her around her waist and hips, feeling her breast pressed against his jaw, her buttock beneath the palm of his hand. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Come get into the tub, baby," she murmured. "I want to bathe you."
He managed to walk, but his muscles had never felt so liquid. "I feel like I could just ooze across the floor to the bathroom," he said with a short chuckle.
"I don't doubt it." She looped a companionable arm around his waist, guided his hand to her shoulder. "You will lean on me if you need to," she ordered.
She tensed slightly when she delivered the order. Mac recognized it for what it was. She was braced for his usual smartass attempt at a denial, cloaked in charm. Instead, he put a finger to her chin, guided her face so she looked up at him.
"I did," he said simply.
She raised her hand to his, cupped it. "So you did."
They made it into the bathroom, and he followed her guidance to step into the Jacuzzi and lower himself where the jets could massage his back and leg muscles. He groaned in sheer bliss.
He discovered she meant what she said, that she wanted to bathe him. Burying her fingers deep in his curls, she shampooed his hair, ran slippery hands over his slick shoulders and back. She washed his genitals, even made him lift up and turn, eased her fingers into him and washed there, soothing him with a soft murmur when he tensed.
"I got a little rough. I'm sorry, Mac."
"My Mistress never owes me an apology for getting pleasure from her slave. I should be doing all this for you."
She chuckled. "And how selfless of you to offer to wash my pussy and ass."
He grinned at her over his shoulder. "Don't forget about the breasts. That would be the worst chore of all."
She flicked soap suds at him. "Behave. Let me finish this. I probably need to do a very gentle enema on you or you'r
e going to hurt like hell tomorrow. Tyler left one up here that has a balm in it to help. "
He shifted, uncomfortably. "I've never...I can do that."
She leaned over, putting her chin on the point of his shoulder, touching her lips to his ear. He pressed his temple to her head, so she spoke into his throat.
"You belong to me, Mackenzie. I want to wash it all away, every woman's touch from you, inside and out."
And she did. He submitted to all of it, every caress and probe of her fingers, every kiss brushed over his skin, every request to turn and bend, stand or sit, until finally she was done, and he had never felt so clean and cozened in his life. She bade him lie back in a tub of clean hot water, dissolved mineral salts in it for muscle pampering, and left the jets running on a low hum as she put away everything. Mac just watched her move around the bathroom, feeling as if he could do that for eternity, never needing to move again, as long as she stayed near enough to smell her scent, see her face.
At some point, he drifted off, for the next thing that came into his awareness was her touch, moving slowly up and down his arm, her fingers following the line of his muscles, wandering over his bicep to his shoulder, down the pectoral, the nipple, then back to the inside of his elbow, as she explored her possession. He felt the difference in her touch now. He was hers now in truth, and she seemed content to take this quiet moment to touch him purely for her own pleasure. Almost as content as he was to have her do so.
He opened his eyes, saw she was kneeling on a folded towel next to the tub. The bathroom was illuminated only by candlelight now, pillar candles in artful groupings in the corner shelves of the room.
"Come join me...Mistress?" he ran a hand up her side, trailed it along the soft skin of her upper arm so his touch brushed the side of her breast. At her pointed look into the water, he lifted a shoulder. "My cock may not be ready for you yet, Mistress, but I can bring you pleasure in other ways." He lifted lashes wet with the steam of the room to show her the truth of his words in his eyes. "I'm yours to command."
Her gaze softened, a charming combination of desire and need that made him want to nibble on her tender mouth. She stood up, untied her robe, let it fall. She pushed the swimsuit to the floor as well, leaving just her standing before him.
It was the first time he'd seen her completely nude, and the simplicity of the gift she offered, the shrugging of shoulders, the falling of the cloth to the floor around her small feet, brought tears to his eyes again, embarrassing him. But he blinked them back, didn't look away, looked while she stood patiently, giving him time to view every inch of her. The tight calves and smooth thighs, the swell of her hips. She kept her pussy cut close, just a fine line of down covering it. He wanted to run his knuckles over it and so he reached out of the tub, a lone arm more than long enough to reach his desire, but he stopped, just shy of making contact.
"May I touch you, Mistress?" He asked in a voice husky with emotion.
"The way you're looking at me, if you don't, I may scream."
He touched his knuckles to her soft mound. Stroked it in the direction of her silky fur and found it as glossy and soft as a cat's pelt in truth. He passed a thumb over her clit and she shuddered, though he kept his touch light, easy, just learning her shape. From her solemn look and the smile playing on her lips, he understood this was the gift he had earned. He had let go for her, and now he could have anything.
Everything about her was so small, and yet there was that resilience to her that he had sensed from the beginning. A resilience as tough as he was, maybe tougher. There was no arguing it, not after tonight. He outmatched her physically, but her emotional core could blast his own into shards. Had blasted it to shards.
He moved his touch up, splaying his palm out over her belly, his smallest finger and thumb grazing the opposing hip bones.
"Do you have any children?"
