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I laughed, scrunching up my nose. “How about we go shower?”
“Together?” She looked at me eagerly, and my inner caveman awakened, seeing her marked with my seed.
“I could do together.” I winked.
“I’ve never showered with a man or had one come all over me. I like all these firsts you’re giving me, Arch.” Her playful side made my heart sing.
“You’ve also never made me come with your tits or fucked my ass if you’re trying to make a list of firsts.”
Her eyes instantly darkened, and she looked at me like she could devour me. “You are going to be so much trouble, Archer. I can just tell.”
Chapter 36
Ionee
“CanIwashyourhair?”
I was naked in the shower with a man who had just fucked me with his fingers and offered to let me take him up the ass, but the thing that seemed to bother me the most was that question.
“Erm,” I froze.
A very naked Archer spun me around so I was facing him. “Your scar?” he asked, quietly.
“It’s awful. I hate it.”
“That scar saved you.”
“No, getting trampled probably saved me,” I tried to lighten the mood I’d darkened.
“So, can I wash your hair? I promise, if you hate it, I’ll stop.”
“Fine.” Turning, I crossed my hands over my breasts, huffing loudly.
The hotel shower was gigantic. It had two waterfall shower heads and then smaller jets that came out at different places in the walls, so we were surrounded by water, no matter where we stood.
I felt soapy hands on my back, rubbing my shoulders. “In fact, let me wash all of you, Nee. Let me take care of you.”
Tears clogged my throat as my body tensed.
“Hey, relax.” His hands moved over me like he knew every inch of me, and then it hit me, yet again, that he did. He knew more about me than I knew about myself. A sob ripped from my throat, but I try my best to mask it with a cough, hoping that the water stole the tears that were about to fall.
“Do I need to avoid your scar with the shampoo?”
“No, just be careful. It’s still really sore sometimes,” I tried to steady my voice as I spoke.
Archer’s hands touched my scalp, covering my hair with shampoo. I thought he would touch me like I was broken; as if I was about to fracture, but he didn’t. He touched me with purpose, with love, taking care of me. I wanted to revel in it, but it destroyed all my defenses and, like a building without a foundation, I crumbled.
I couldn’t really tell you what happened but when the world came back into focus, I was sitting in Archer’s lap on the shower floor, wrapped in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably against his chest, as he ran his fingers over my scar, again and again, whispering reassurances and promises.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“There you are. Come on, let’s get you dry and warm.” Scooping me up, Archer turned off the water and stepped back into the bathroom, putting me down while he dried me off and wrapped me in a huge, fluffy, white robe. He quickly wrapped a towel around his waist before leading me to bed, helping me under the thick covers.
“You want me to dry your hair?”
“Can you get me a towel? I’ll wrap it up for a while. Thank you.”
Watching as I twisted my hair into the towel and tucked it in so it stayed on my head, he offered me a small smile.
