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Was it before or after he first touched me? Kissed me? Made sure I knew I was his?
Days and nights blurred into one in that dark, damp cell, and my body adjusted, but my mind … my mind is still playing catch-up.
He carries me into the bedroom and heads straight for the bath, where he puts me down and starts tearing off my clothes. The shirt first, then my pants, as well as my socks and shoes. Not that they were mine, to begin with, but still … it makes me self-conscious because I’m naked once again.
I protect myself with my arms, despite knowing my hands are visible to him. But he doesn’t seem to pay even the slightest attention to them as he throws my clothes in a corner and turns on the faucet.
The warm running water feels like bliss compared to the lukewarm shower we had back in the cell. But it feels wrong to be the only one to enjoy these simple things.
“You deserve a shower too,” I mutter, not knowing what else to say.
He plants a finger on my lips and opens the faucet even further until the water starts gushing out. “My womanalwayscomes first.”
His woman?
Why does that make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside?
I huddle into the warm blanket of the water, trying to hide my blush beneath the bubbles he poured in. It all smells so lovely, and it’s a nice way to rinse off the nastiness from being in that mansion.
There was only ever one highlight, and it was always when he came to my rescue.
When he spread his arms and shielded me from their evil.
And I’m so grateful for everything he’s done for me, for us … fighting his way through the pain to get us to safety … that I feel like he deserves this more than I do.
* * *
Beast
I graba bottle of soap from the counter near the bath and lather it with my hands before I grab her foot and lift it.
“Whoa—”
She swallows her squeal as I begin to massage her foot. I rub the soap gently across her legs, putting effort into every inch of her skin. Because every inch of her deserves to be treated with the utmost care.
To me … she is a goddess to worship.
As delicate as the flower she once offered me, the flower I once worshipped the same way.
She looks up at me from her warm bath like a doe staring into the headlights.
It’s the same look she gave me when I was strung up on the wall after letting her escape.
Caused by a mind overtaken by guilt.
I don’t wait one second before I lean in, grab her face, and press a ravenous kiss on her pouty lips.
I don’t need to hear the words to know what she’s thinking or feeling inside that shattered heart of hers.
She’s convinced herself that she doesn’t deserve even a speck of kindness, even when she’s the complete embodiment.
But I will make her see.
I will make her believe.
I don’t stop kissing her, not even as she gasps for air. My lips are greedy and overbearing as I kiss her relentlessly.
My cock grows hard under these linen pants, but I will it to go down as I shower her in all the kisses she needs to make this ache go away.
