Black Listed(38)

He went into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later carrying an armful of things.

“Let’s begin with a sponge bath,” he said as he sat on the bed. He dropped almost everything next to him, putting a cup of water on the nightstand and holding a white washcloth in his hand. “I want you nice and clean before I get you dirty.”

He started at her neck, rubbing the warm, wet cloth across her collarbone with an almost detached demeanor. She could almost believe this wasn’t arousing him, except for his rapid breathing and the fact his cock looked as though it was going to burst out of his pants.

He slowly worked his way up and down her arms before dragging the cloth over her nipples teasingly and then moving onto her upper abdomen. Unable to resist, she bowed on the bed, silently begging him to return to her nipples.

He arched a brow and tsked. “You’re a greedy patient. But since this is about making you comfortable, all you have to do is ask for what you want and trust that I’ll give it to you. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes.” She dug her fingers into the blankets to keep herself from forcing him to touch her. She had to ask. She could do that. “Please. I want you to clean my nipples some more. I need it.”

He smiled. “Good girl.”

She wanted to be a good girl. Wanted to be a good patient for him.

The headache that had lingered after the accident had disappeared and been replaced by an ache that only he could soothe. There had been plenty of memorable nights of erotic pain and wild sex that had left her sore for days. And she had loved those nights. But tonight wouldn’t involve pain.

Tonight he would care for her as if she were a fragile china doll, and that’s exactly what she needed. It had been so long since anyone had tended to her needs. Since Sawyer. It was a luxury to lie here.

One she couldn’t afford to get used to.

He dragged the washcloth over a nipple with careful deliberation. She’d never noticed how rough the fabric felt across her skin. It was like a tongue, languidly licking over the bud, and as the air cooled her moist flesh, her nipple and areola pebbled even tighter, becoming almost painful.

His lips brushed across them, his short stubble scraping her skin in the most delicious way. She whimpered in expectation, her spine bowing to encourage him to take one of the buds into her mouth. And when he did, when those sinful lips of his sealed over her nipple and sucked it into the hot cavern of his mouth, she cried out his name, desperate for more.

More sucking.

Licking.

Nibbling.

Biting.

He gave it all to her and more, making sure he left that poor nipple sore and abused from his ministrations before moving onto the other one and mirroring his actions. Her arousal dripped from her pussy, her inner thighs slick with proof of her desire. She had a difficult time remaining still; her instinct to squirm and wrap her legs around his waist in hopes he’d fuck her hard.

But she was a good patient, and good patients waited for their doctor’s instructions. She trusted he had a plan to get her off, and she didn’t want to ruin it. Her Master had the most creative means of giving her pleasure, and judging by his earlier smile, she should buckle up for an orgasmic ride.

Although he’d worked her nipples for at least twenty minutes, it seemed as though no time at all had passed when he licked a path down her torso, abrading her flesh with his facial hair along the way. She couldn’t wait to look in the mirror later, eager to see the marks he left behind on her body as evidence of his loving.

He wedged himself between her thighs, his hot breath blowing on the sensitive skin of her pussy. She held her breath, anticipating his tongue. Instead, she heard a hissing noise and jerked as a cool substance hit her labia. The scent of shaving cream reached her, and she lifted her head off the pillow, looking down at him.

“Relax,” he crooned. “I need to shave you in order to really give you a thorough exam.”

Right. It had nothing to do with the fact that he loved to keep her pussy smooth and free of hair, so that he could play with that sensitive skin. It was an act of dominance, a display of ownership that sent a chill racing down the length of her body. She had to trust him with a sharp blade and believe he wouldn’t do anything to harm her.

The first scrape of the razor across her skin aroused her to the point of pain. Her clitoris swelled until it felt as though it had grown twice its size, and her juices trickled out of her, sliding down to lubricate between the cheeks of her ass. She practically vibrated from the tension of having him work so methodically and precisely on her mound.

His eyes narrowed in concentration as if he was performing surgery, his hands steady and sure as he stretched her skin to get the closest possible shave.