Page 24 of Captive Heart

It was a rather surreal situation, this one. Micah lathered up his hands with the rich, vanilla scented, antibacterial body wash from the dispenser in the club's wet playroom and tried his best to approach washing Melody with as much dispassion and distance as he could muster. He hadn't imagined that it would be this difficult, though.

His ingrained subconscious kept telling him that he was in a BDSM club playroom with a naked woman covered in lash marks and wanted to give the image an entirely different connotation to reality. Sure, his conscious thoughts told him that these were the evidence of abuse, not a wild, consensual party in the dungeon, but the mixed aspects were screwing with his head, leaving him with the overwhelming urge to gently and sensuously stroke the suds all over her body and take care of her, making it a pleasure for both of them.

Jesus! Don't be such a fucking pervert, he told himself derisively.

"What?" Melody asked with a frown, looking over her shoulder to where he was soaping her back. It was only then that he realised that he'd muttered the words aloud under his breath.

Grabbing one of the detachable shower heads, he directed it over her greasy, matted hair and instead replied, "Tip your head back." He managed to bite the 'sweetheart' off before it left his mouth at least.

He wet her hair then turned his attention to lathering it up, concentrating on trying to get the neglected tresses clean instead of focusing on the false impressions bombarding his brain.

He was better than that, damn it!

The first lot of lather disappeared into nothing, and Micah set about rinsing and repeating. This was going to take a while, he realised, and he was torn between wanting to ask how her hair had managed to become so unkempt and not wanting to know the answer.

In the end, both thoughts were knocked from his head when Melody gave a soft groan at his ministrations as he massaged the scented lather into her scalp.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, stilling his fingers and wondering if there were injuries he hadn't seen.

"No," she replied with a breathy moan that wanted to arrow directly to his cock. "It feels wonderful!"

Another heartfelt groan of pleasure.

Micah was glad he was standing behind her.

17

Melody surrendered herself and floated in the unfamiliar sensations that were bombarding her. She couldn't remember a time when anyone had treated her like this.

Sure, Daddy had often washed her, but it had never felt like this did. Daddy had prodded and probed and concentrated on her sexy places, whereas Micah was just gliding his hands gently over her bruised body, meticulously washing every inch.

She could feel his caution as he soaped her cuts and abrasions. Knew there was no hidden agenda in his actions and, perversely, it was that very thing that touched her so deeply.

It was astounding how easily she could feel herself relaxing as he burrowed his strong fingers into her hair and massaged the sweet-smelling shampoo into her scalp.

Trust, she realised.

Melody had no idea why she trusted Micah after such a short amount of time, when she was more naturally predisposed to trust no one.

It wasn't just that he had done nothing to hurt her yet. No, it was more than that… almost like an aura he carried about him which gentled her frazzled nerves and called to her on some subconscious level, to reassure her she was safe with him.

It really made no sense at all, given her past experiences. There was no rhyme or reason but, somehow, she just knew that her new master would always treat her with care and respect.

It was such a foreign concept that she couldn't help hoping he would choose to keep her forever.

She would serve him well, be the very best slave he could ever hope for, and always be grateful that he had become her saviour.

Her very own real-life hero.

"Keep your eyes closed while I rinse this off," Micah said gently. "I don't want the suds to sting your eyes."

And Melody's heart swelled a little bit more with his caring words.

Micah dumped a huge load of conditioner into the matted nest on Melody's head. Another sweet luxury, just like the toothbrush and toothpaste he’d found for her.

"I'm sorry," he apologised quietly, though she couldn’t work out why he was apologising for caring for her until he continued.

"There's no way I'm going to be able to get a brush through this without pulling quite a bit."

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