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He set a hand on my waist and shifted me to face the wall. Water cascaded over us, pelting our bodies and steaming the enclosure.
He dropped a kiss to my shoulder and took my wrists in his hand, the feel of his arms around me giving me the comfort I should want so desperately.
Tears pooled in my eyes. He was my safe place, where the world couldn’t get to me, at least for now.
In all the times things fell apart, this was the first time someone was there to help me pick up the pieces.
Damon brought my palms flat against the tile, caging me with his large mass. “Rest them here. Let me do all the work.”
“You pose your words as if they are a request.” I cocked my head to the side, watching as tiny droplets of water slid from the tip of his nose. “But I know it’s an order.”
“I am who I am, My Sophia. Now be a good girl, and let me clean you up.”
“If it makes you feel like you’ve accomplished something with your life to give me a bath, go right ahead.”
He narrowed his gaze. “We’ll add that one to the list, too.”
“What list?”
“The list of your infractions requiring punishment.” The slight change in his voice had my core spasming.
“What infractions?”
“Let’s start with you questioning whether or not I wanted to pay your bail.”
“Oh.”
“Exactly, oh. You will never question your worth with me. I would have gladly paid triple that.” He poured shampoo into his hand. “We’ll discuss the rest tomorrow. Tilt your head back.”
He washed my hair in a way that shouldn’t have felt so seductive. It was a scalp massage. I reacted as if they were fingers strumming my clit. He found all the right spots to release the tension from the day, and I couldn’t quite understand why the simple act of him washing my hair dialed up my desire so much.
I nearly groaned with disappointment when he angled the shower head to wash away the suds. However, my angst disappeared when I realized he still had my body to focus on.
He lathered a loofah with earthy scented soap, not flowery, more with a hint of botanical herbs. It soothed the senses.
He washed my skin in slow, leisurely strokes, followed by the glide of his hands to massage my muscles.
I couldn’t help but moan at the exquisite touch. It was both soothing and arousing. Damon circled my breasts in what seemed more of a tease, as if he wanted my nipples to strain into tight buds before he moved lower down my abdomen.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Doing what?”
“Torturing me.”
“If I wanted to torture you, I’d do this.” His fingers delved between my folds, stroking along the sides of my clit, giving it the barest of grazes but not enough friction to give me the edge of pleasure I craved.
I pushed against the tiled wall of the shower, bringing my back flush to his very aroused front.
“Damon, make me come.”
He slid free of my sex. “Tsk. Tsk. Orders don’t work on me.”
Taking the soapy sponge, he knelt and ministered to my lower body. His movements were deliberate, meant to arouse and increase the throbbing ache deep in my core.
The way he tended to my feet had shivers prickling all over my skin, not from a tickling sensation but from how much this simple act increased the desire coursing through me.
When he finally reached my desperate pussy, I thought I’d collapse from the prolonged wait. His palm glided between my legs, soapy suds teasing my clit.
