She chuckled. “And how selfless of you to offer to wash my pussy and ass.” He grinned at her over his shoulder. “Don’t forget about the breasts. That would be the worst chore of all.”
She flicked soap suds at him. “Behave. Let me finish this. I probably need to do a very gentle enema on you or you’re going to hurt like hell tomorrow. Tyler left one up here that has a balm in it to help. “
He shifted, uncomfortably. “I’ve never…I can do that.” She leaned over, putting her chin on the point of his shoulder, touching her lips to his ear. He pressed his temple to her head, so she spoke into his throat.
“You belong to me, Mackenzie. I want to wash it all away, every woman’s touch from you, inside and out.”
And she did. He submitted to all of it, every caress and probe of her fingers, every kiss brushed over his skin, every request to turn and bend, stand or sit, until finally she was done, and he had never felt so clean and cozened in his life. She bade him lie back in a tub of clean hot water, dissolved mineral salts in it for muscle pampering, and left the jets running on a low hum as she put away everything. Mac just watched her move around the bathroom, feeling as if he could do that for eternity, never needing to move again, as long as she stayed near enough to smell her scent, see her face.
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At some point, he drifted off, for the next thing that came into his awareness was her touch, moving slowly up and down his arm, her fingers following the line of his muscles, wandering over his bicep to his shoulder, down the pectoral, the nipple, then back to the inside of his elbow, as she explored her possession. He felt the difference in her touch now. He was hers now in truth, and she seemed content to take this quiet moment to touch him purely for her own pleasure. Almost as content as he was to have her do so.
He opened his eyes, saw she was kneeling on a folded towel next to the tub. The bathroom was illuminated only by candlelight now, pillar candles in artful groupings in the corner shelves of the room.
“Come join me…Mistress?” he ran a hand up her side, trailed it along the soft skin of her upper arm so his touch brushed the side of her breast. At her pointed look into the water, he lifted a shoulder. “My cock may not be ready for you yet, Mistress, but I can bring you pleasure in other ways.” He lifted lashes wet with the steam of the room to show her the truth of his words in his eyes. “I’m yours to command.” Her gaze softened, a charming combination of desire and need that made him want to nibble on her tender mouth. She stood up, untied her robe, let it fall. She pushed the swimsuit to the floor as well, leaving just her standing before him.
It was the first time he’d seen her completely nude, and the simplicity of the gift she offered, the shrugging of shoulders, the falling of the cloth to the floor around her small feet, brought tears to his eyes again, embarrassing him. But he blinked them back, didn’t look away, looked while she stood patiently, giving him time to view every inch of her. The tight calves and smooth thighs, the swell of her hips. She kept her pussy cut close, just a fine line of down covering it. He wanted to run his knuckles over it and so he reached out of the tub, a lone arm more than long enough to reach his desire, but he stopped, just shy of making contact.
“May I touch you, Mistress?” He asked in a voice husky with emotion.
“The way you’re looking at me, if you don’t, I may scream.” He touched his knuckles to her soft mound. Stroked it in the direction of her silky fur and found it as glossy and soft as a cat’s pelt in truth. He passed a thumb over her clit and she shuddered, though he kept his touch light, easy, just learning her shape.
From her solemn look and the smile playing on her lips, he understood this was the gift he had earned. He had let go for her, and now he could have anything.
Everything about her was so small, and yet there was that resilience to her that he had sensed from the beginning. A resilience as tough as he was, maybe tougher. There was no arguing it, not after tonight. He outmatched her physically, but her emotional core could blast his own into shards. Had blasted it to shards.
He moved his touch up, splaying his palm out over her belly, his smallest finger and thumb grazing the opposing hip bones.
“Do you have any children?”
“No.” Her voice was soft, like feathers falling on his face.
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“Have you…do you want them?”
It was an intimate question, and when she did not immediately answer, his expression changed. “My apologies, Mistress. I was out of line to ask—”
“No,” she covered his hand with her own. “Mackenzie, you can ask me anything.” She knelt, so they were eye to eye. “There’s room for any thought, any question, any desire. And the answer is yes, I want them.” She touched his lips. “And when I’m sure I’ve found the man who wants me as much as I want him, I want marriage first.” Her lips curved. “That’s the old fashioned way, you know. Marriage first, baby second.”
“Mmmm. I knew you were an old-fashioned girl, from the first moment you shoved that crop against my balls.” He grinned, reached up, curled his finger around a loose lock of hair, tugged until she came down and met his lips. He closed her in the circle of his arms and slid her into the water with him, nestling her body in between his thighs, her hip pressed to his genitals, her breasts on his chest. When the kiss broke, she fitted her head beneath his chin. She laid her hand over his heart and he watched her lashes fan her cheek as she closed her eyes and made a sound of pleasure.
“I would be content to stay this way forever.”
“Thank God.”
She laughed, a quiet sound that was just an extension of the caress she was making on his flesh with the idle movement of her fingers over the curve of his pectoral. “I have to admit, that was amazing. The way that oill worked. It pleased me tremendously.” She tilted her face up to him. “You pleased me tremendously.”
“I’m glad. I just hope…” He hesitated, ran his touch down her spine, made her shiver. “I’d like to ask that you never use it on me again.”
“Why?” her tone was neutral, giving him nothing of her thoughts, but her hand continued its movement, reassuring. Encouraging him to speak and share his mind with her.
“It’s…I want to serve you because it gives you pleasure for me to do your bidding.
Not because I’m a mindless beast.”
She nodded. “All right. I won’t.”
“Just like that?” He could not keep the surprise from his voice. “But when I asked you to stop before…”
“Just that simple. You want me to know that your obedience comes from a total willingness to obey my desires. Because every part of you consciously craves to do so.
That’s why you asked, and so that makes the oill unnecessary, and unwelcome.” She reached down in the water, found his cock and closed her hand on it, stroking.
He thought a miracle would be required to get him erect again tonight, but perhaps contact with her flesh was a miracle, for from the moment he had laid her down on his body he had started to become more stiff, just having her so close. At her grip, the blood pumped into it hard and fast, leaving his head so quickly he felt a bit dizzy. It stunned 107
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him that she was able to command his body to rise to her touch, despite it having done so countless times already in the same few hours.
“I want you to come for me again, Mackenzie.”
“I don’t know if I can, Mistress.”
But if anyone can get me to do it, it would be you.
“We’re going to go slow. Very, very slow.” Her fingers teased him, lines up and down, a faint stroke beneath the head, a squeeze of her fingers that told him she knew exactly what she was doing. She shifted up, so her knee was on the bottom of the tub, her thigh pressed against the round curve of his testicles. It lifted her breasts to his mouth.
“Suck them,” she commanded softly. “But put your hands on the rim of the tub on either side of you. You can only touch me with your mouth.” His lips closed over the nipple of the left breast, and he made a sound of pure hunger in the back of his throat. She tasted wet and hot, and he thought he could even taste the flavor of the blood pumping through those delicate blue veins just beneath her skin. He wanted to curl his hands around her breasts, squeeze them, distend them, feel their weight and shape change beneath his kneading, but he obeyed, suckling her urgently, lapping his tongue over the stiff tip, watching her lips part on soft croons of pleasure. Her hands gripped his shoulders, dug in as his cock kept rising, hard and long beneath the water, until it lay along her knee, straight up along the line of her thigh, pointing at what it wanted.
“Do the other one,” she whispered.
He switched, making sure he took his time getting there, licking the deep crease between them caused by her forward gravity position, the crescent swell, the undercurve, knowing the sensitive nature of a woman’s body, of this woman’s body.
He knew it because he felt her every minute response as if it was broadcast in his mind, a clear picture of what she desired. He fastened on the other nipple and made a greedy sucking noise, goading her with the sounds of his hunger toward where he hoped to God they were going. He had never wanted to be inside a woman’s cunt more.