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She pulled away from me, staring into my face.
I instinctively tried to look away, giving her my good side—goddamn, I hated that I now had a good side—but she caught my chin before I could twist it too far.
Then, with her eyes directly on me, she slowly lowered herself to her knees, finally allowing her death grip to loosen.
While maintaining eye contact, she bent down and took me as far into her mouth as she could while not losing my gaze.
I curled my fingers around her hair, twisting it up and out of the way as I helped guide her lower.
We lost the eye contact, but she took more into her mouth, and I couldn’t decide which was better.
The way she stared at me, letting me know without words that my new face didn’t bother her.
She hummed, one hand going to my thigh to steady herself while the other went to cup my balls.
I squeezed my eye shut, only realizing when I shut the one, I clenched the muscles on the other side as well. Which inevitably hurt.
Not that I told her that. Had her eyes still been on my face, she might’ve been able to read it, but she was going to town on my cock, sucking, licking and nibbling.
I gritted my teeth as pleasure and pain warred against each other.
I wasn’t sure which one would win at first, despite my efforts to relax my face.
However, my cock and my need for her proved to be more insistent.
I groaned loudly as I came, filling her mouth and throat with weeks of unspent need.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I breathed.
She stilled on my cock, her hold loosening, and jerked her head up to stare at me.
She was still licking her fingers when I felt all of my energy leave me.
“You just cursed.” She blinked. “Three times.”
I licked my lips, not ready to admit that part of my lips were numb.
I sure the fuck hoped I didn’t just break myself.
Not willing to admit it, I said, “It’s been a long time, okay?”
She giggled and got up, quickly getting her own shower taken care of and finished before she turned it off and studied me.
“I don’t think we’ve done this with you wet before,” she said as she eyed me. “Let me get toweled off, then get you ready, and then we can get you into some pants once we’re in the room where it’s dry.”
I nodded and watched as she dried off, got dressed, then came back for me.
“And no more of this feeling sorry for yourself business,” she said as she helped me dry off. Sadly, my cock still jerked at the feel of her so close to me, causing her to laugh. “Down, boy.”
I snorted and helped her dry me off, taking over the task of my head since she’d been as gentle as she could, but it’d still hurt like a bitch.
Being shot in the face and having a bullet bounce around in your head wasn’t something you quickly got over. Even if I moved my head too fast, it caused excruciating pain.
Hence, why I took over the task of drying my hair.
Only when I was mostly dry did she help me to stand, and we shuffled—I wasn’t really willing to admit how much she helped me—to the bedroom and the bed.
When I sat on the side of the bed, it was more forceful than I’d been intending, and it caused my brain to jolt.
