Page 82 of Lace 'em Up

But King notices.

Of course he does, his arm banding around my hips as he slowly draws away from me, leaning back on his heels and cradling me against him.

The water flows over my body, soaking the hair I hadn’t intended on washing this morning, but I can’t bring myself to care, not with him holding me like this, not with the fairy tale of the last day. Not with?—

He shifts slightly and I gasp, eyes flying open. “You’re hard.”

The smile he gives me…God, it shouldn’t make my pussy throb, shouldn’t stoke the embers of desire that have just been banked by my orgasm.

But it does.

Because, God, he’s fucking pretty.

He doesn’t bend me over the bench set along one side of the shower, doesn’t thrust deep and fuck me hard and fast again.

He settles me on that bench, the cool tiles a soft bite on the backs of my thighs, and then he proceeds to wash—and condition!—my hair. After, he loads up the loofa with shower gel and soaps me up before carefully rinsing me off.

Butterflies whip around my belly, their delicate wings creating a maelstrom that threatens to steal my breath.

Because he’s treating me gently again.

Because he’s caring for me. Carefully. Softly. Sweetly.

And…I’ve never had that.

“King,” I whisper as he directs the handheld shower head toward my feet, ensuring that the last of the suds are rinsed, that the bottoms of my feet are clean and free of soap.

So I don’t slip.

Those butterflies turn into tiny little birds, flying around my insides, thumping against my lungs.

“King,” I say again.

“It’s okay, princess,” he murmurs, touching my cheek for a brief moment before he uses the loofa to brusquely wash his body, rinsing off the suds in quick, efficient movements.

He says it’s okay.

But it’s not.

How can this be okay?

How can he show me this, get me used to this, and I just…move on with my life when it’s done?

Fingers on my jaw, tilting my head up. “Too much, princess?”

Yes.

And no.

Not nearly enough.

In fact, I have the feeling that it will never be enough.

“Too much,” he says softly before I can reply, picking the answer out of my mind. Or maybe from my expression. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions, at obscuring what’s in my heart.

And right now, my feelings are too big, too much…

Too fucking perfect.

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