Page 78 of Trapped Truth

While she tends to the filling tub and dims the lights, I finish detaching the hollow prosthetic to set it aside. The layers of sweat-resistant sleeves come off next. Most people don’t realise how much goes into prep long before I attach the leg itself.

I massage the sore residual limb while watching the water line fill. Ember turns off the taps then moves to shimmy her leggings off, taking her panties with them much to my delight.

“You just going to stare at me?” Cheekily, she sets a hand on her hip.

“Might do. Hell of a sight.”

“Pervert.”

“Call it what you like. I don’t care.”

My mouth grows bone dry as she tugs the tank top off to free her bare tits. Now I am staring. Ember flicks flame-red hair over her shoulder then clambers into the tub to sink into its soapy warmth.

“Don’t just sit there, get in.”

“Thought I was a pervert?” I challenge.

“I don’t mind sharing my tub with a delinquent. Come on.”

Grinning, I brace my hands on the porcelain edge, using it to hop around the perimeter so I can sink in right behind her. It’s a little awkward, causing water to slop over the edges before I pull my good leg fully inside.

She settles back against my chest, her head lolling to rest on my shoulder. I curl my arms around her from behind. Skin on skin, the close contact feels incredible. Not a single barrier or space left to hold us apart.

One hand remains splayed over her lower stomach, the other acts of its own free will. I don’t tell it to trail water and bubbles over her breasts, lathering up the slick mounds. Her nipple glistens, begging to be tasted.

“I already showered, yet I still don’t feel clean.” Her confession is hushed in the bathroom. “All I can think about is that poor girl, curled up and cowering for her life.”

“We got her out, Em. She’s safe.”

“I know, but it hurts to think how many more like her are still out there.”

“Then we’ll find them too. I won’t rest until they all have the justice they deserve… And you. I swear it.”

She’s silent for a long stretch, her head burrowing into my chest. I’m sure she feels my cock standing to attention. It’s impossible not to react when her dripping, silky body is plastered against mine.

“Let’s get you feeling clean.” I reach for the shower gel. “We’ll do it together.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, little astronaut.”

Ember lets me lather up my hands and tackle each limb, one at a time. I start by sluicing bubbles over her arms, taking care to tenderly massage each joint, even sliding our fingers together to clean every nook and cranny.

She raises a leg next, curling it towards us so I’m able to soap up her calf, knee and quads. Even the simple act of cleansing her feels so intimate. It isn’t entirely erotic, despite what my hard dick might think.

On her other leg, the puckered pink flesh of her healing stab wound appears healthy. It hasn’t finished healing, but at least the skin has sealed tight. My fingers dance over the injury, longing to erase yet another mark she’s endured.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she whispers. “Almost healed.”

“You have too many scars as it is.”

“Do they bother you?”

“No, of course not.” I clasp her chin from behind, tilting her gaze up to meet mine.

“I know they can’t be attractive⁠—”

“Stop, Em. You’re so fucking gorgeous. I can’t find a single part of this body I don’t love and worship. That includes your scars. They’re a part of you.”