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Carefully, he washed my face, taking care to thoroughly clean off my forehead, my cheeks, and my chin with painstaking gentleness. I closed my eyes and he very tenderly wiped those too.
“There now. There’s my Mila,” he said quietly. I wasn’t sure, but there seemed to be affection in his tone now and I opened my eyes to see those kind eyes once more.
His hands cupped my face, and he slowly glided his thumbs across my cheeks. I sighed audibly and he smiled.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Sore,” I admitted with a blush. I dropped my gaze bashfully, but he lifted my chin and made me look at him anyway.
“Come. Stand for me,” he directed. With a guiding hand, he helped me to climb off the counter. He led me to the center of the room and stood in front of me. His hands grasped my shoulders, squeezing tight for the briefest of seconds before they slid down my arms.
“Be honest with me. Are your shoulders sore too?” he questioned, narrowing his gaze a bit worriedly.
I shook my head. His concern touched me. “They’re okay. They were a bit sore during dinner, but that’s faded mostly,” I answered timidly.
“I’ll massage them for you before bed so you won’t wake up hurting tomorrow,” he smiled.
I dropped my chin, not knowing what to say. His palms guided across my collarbone and cupped my breasts. I sucked in a pained breath as his fingers brushed over my nipples. They still ached quite a bit. He studied them closely for a long moment and it took everything in me not to cover them with my hands.
“Your nipples will likely be sore for a little while longer. They shouldn’t hurt in the morning. They are still a little pink from the clamps, but that won’t last too much longer,” he murmured. He reached between my legs next, tracing a finger lightly over my clit and then over my entrance.
I gasped, the feeling of soreness only fueling an unwelcome surge of arousal that hit me from out of nowhere.
He slipped a single fingertip inside me with ease. I swallowed hard, realizing that I was wet too.
“Sore here?” he asked.
“Yes,” I breathed, my voice hardly audible.
“Good.”
I flicked my eyes up, catching a glimpse of a growing smirk on his face. He pulled his finger free and rounded my back.
“Look in the mirror behind you. Tell me what you see,” he instructed gently. I blushed and looked back, seeing my fully naked form and his fully dressed one. My gaze dropped to my bare cheeks. My ass was still pink and there were clear lines left behind from his belt.
“My spanked bottom,” I blushed.
“It still has the marks from my belt, doesn’t it, little girl?” he asked.
He knelt behind me, tracing his fingers across my bare cheeks, following the lines of one of the deeper pink marks. I watched him in the mirror for a period of time before he knelt down behind me.
“Yes, sir,” I breathed. He grasped my cheeks and spread them open. This time, I couldn’t help but cover my face as I tried to hide my shame. It took everything in me not to whine out loud.
“Your asshole is still very pink and so very well-used. Is it still sore?” he asked. I practically quaked when he passed a single finger over my tight hole. A part of me wanted him to press his finger inside me again, but I was too ashamed to say any of that out loud.
“Very much so,” I whispered, and he grinned wide. His gaze was contemplative, and I shivered, not knowing what was going on inside his head.
“Perfect,” he murmured. He stood back up and gave my ass a hard slap, catching me off guard.
“Now be a good girl for me while I prepare your bath,” he requested.
I nodded quickly, my bottom smarting where he’d smacked it. I bit my lip to keep quiet, studying him closely as he started running the water. He scooped some Epsom salts into the tub. Then he poured a thick preparation of bubble bath and essential oils in the steaming water. I moved closer and sat on the edge. His gaze caught mine and it threw me off guard.
Gone was the hard man who had punished me in front of his men. In his place was a certain softness. His smile was warm, and it drew me in. His hand found mine, pulling me in toward his chest. I stared up into those chocolate brown eyes as his fingers flittered along beneath my chin. His lips sought out mine, gently at first and then a bit more persistent.
I kissed him back.
It was at that moment that I first made the choice to return his affections. His answering groan spurred me on, and I pressed deeper into that kiss. My heart pounded irrationally in my chest and my body pulsed with heat, but this time I welcomed it. When he finally pulled back from that kiss, I was breathless with desire.
