Gilded Lily(10)

“Because you have no restraint. That’s one lesson we’ll have to review next week. It seems like that’s the one rule you tend to need reminding of…often. Grab a towel.” He turned the water off and opened the glass door, allowing the fog to roll out in front of him.

She handed him a towel from the cabinet and watched as he vigorously rubbed his face. Lily looked down to find his immense cock so engorged it appeared painful.

“See?” He reached his hand between her thighs, slowly massaging her delicate space. “You’re all wet. Just the way I like you.”

Lily gasped as he slid two fingers deep inside her body.

“Wait, poppet. Don’t come again. I’ll send Renee tomorrow, if you’d like.”

He withdrew his fingers, leaving her feeling empty. “That would be nice,” she whispered. Restriction punishment.

“Go lie on the bed. I have to put your medicine on before I go to the hospital.”

Lily did as she was told and flopped on her belly atop the disheveled blankets. She turned to find Tony standing above her. The long, thick shaft bobbed against his tight waist. Lily longed to suck it deep into her mouth and coax him to come, but she knew it had been a long time since he’d let her give him pleasure, and she wasn’t going to change his mind now.

Tony twisted the lid off the glass container. He’d made the healing ointment himself, especially for her. Her skin was delicate, and he hadn’t wanted any infection to set in or scarring that would be too extensive. He’d applied it after the first time he whipped her and every time thereafter.

Lily flinched with the first swipe of the cool cream. He knew this was not her favorite part of their visits, but once again reassured her it was a necessity. As he talked to her, she relaxed, letting him apply the rest to her buttocks and shoulder.

“Tony, I’m sorry if I’m keeping you from going into the hospital,” she said as she rested her chin on her crossed forearms. She really was. The last few months she felt more like a pain in the ass than the loving submissive she’d started out as.

“I told you before not to worry about my schedule. Just hold still. Are you going to get any writing done today?”

Lily let Tony’s massaging touch ease the tension from between her shoulder blades. Religious history was the last thing on her mind today. “I don’t know. My lecture series doesn’t start for a while. I’ve got time to work on the book later. Besides, my agent’s had me running around like mad, doing all these stupid phone interviews. I’ve had two more universities sign up for the book tour. I guess everyone is interested in how Mary Magdalene spent her days.”

She felt a pang of guilt. He did need to get going soon. She knew it, but part of her selfishly didn’t care. Nicholas was gone, and she didn’t want to be alone. The hospital where Tony worked was an hour away. She knew because of the many times he’d called her from his office and she’d wait in the kitchen and watch the clock until he walked through the door.

He patted her on the backside and twisted the lid back on the container. “Wear something light so that can soak in. No interviews for a couple of days. Got it? You need to rest.”

She nodded as she rolled off the bed.

“I mean it, poppet. Have some tea while you sit out in the bath today.”

She looked to her bare feet, unable to bear having him watch her cry yet again. Her chin felt so small in his big hand as he tipped her face to see his gaze.

“He would want that,” he said and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll call you tonight.”

Tony took his time dressing. Lily knew it was a small piece of pleasure he let her have. The fragile glimpse into something so personal made her feel close to someone, like she was a part of a pair and meant something. She loved to watch him in these quiet moments, and he knew it. The inevitable would one day come, and she wouldn’t have this opportunity any longer.

Lily relished the feel of his firm lips as he feathered tender good-bye kisses over her cheek. Then he was gone. She took a steadying breath, realizing the loss of his powerful presence and how it only magnified the loss of her best friend.

ADAM PULLED ONE of the three suitcases he owned from the hall closet. It still had sand scattered throughout the silky lining. The last place this case had seen was the inside of a cargo hold as he flew back from Iraq. The luggage carried more than sand. It swelled with memories of dust storms, disabled Humvees, and young men with only three limbs. Blood stained more than his traveling gear. It was forever imprinted on a psyche that was already as fragile as an IED.

Taking time off to travel to Louisiana would be a much-needed escape. It’d give him an excuse to delay the next shoot and not piss off his editor. His adrenaline-pumping brain wanted him to go, go, go, but he was tired. Tired of dead bodies and scars. He flipped his hand over and inspected the mangled skin. This was the result of getting too close to get the shot. The blood running down his cheek hadn’t even dawned on him; he’d focused on the soldier in front of him. The guy was obviously yelling, but Adam couldn’t hear a damn thing. The dust billowed up around them as the soldier motioned for the unit to move back. The bomb ended up taking three soldiers out, leaving him behind. Why? So that he’d have another day to tie a woman up and tell her how much he needed to fuck her until she went limp? No, he was spared so that he could go back. Tell the story in pictures—the ones that glorified the effort and the ones that condemned it.