Page 110 of Prized Possession

He shakes his head. “No. Good would be me fucking you until you can’t do anything except scream my name, but since we can’t do that, we’ll go with your plan.”

I chuckle, reaching behind him to grab another cloth off the hook on the wall. I then direct the shower head away from us while I find the right temperature, before turning on the rainfall shower above us.

I try to keep my movements gentle but swift, knowing the longer I drag this out, the more torturous it’ll be for us both.

Once I’ve washed all the blood off his body, I focus on his wounds, making sure they’re as clean as can be. He winces, hisses, and occasionally swears, but that just tells me I’m doing a good job.

I’m not worried about the wounds on his arm or thigh, as they’ve both almost stopped bleeding already, but the one on his stomach is deeper and won’t stop trickling.

It’s not as bad as it was initially, but there’s still enough blood for me to be concerned. Marcus also pulls away when I touch around it, which tells me it hurts much more than he’s letting on.

“All done,” I say when I finish cleaning the last bit of his body. “Well, except for your boxers and your hair. Do you want me to…”

I leave the sentence unfinished, just kind of hanging in the air. Marcus’ eyes flutter closed as he takes a few deep breaths.

“Fuck, this is really testing me tonight, love. Can you pull off my boxers and I’ll wash while you shampoo my hair? It will hurt my arm a lot less if you do it.”

I give him a smile and a nod, my heart aching that he’s allowing himself to be vulnerable enough to ask for my help. Now I just need to take his boxers off without groping him… Easy!

Ha, who am I kidding, it was so fucking hard—literally.

I tried to keep my eyes on Marcus’ face, but it’s incredibly difficult to remove someone’s boxers when you can’t see what you’re doing, and it actually resulted in my hands brushing over areas I was trying to avoid. Marcus’ loud groan made my core tighten, and I looked down, telling myself to focus.

I’ve seen his cock before, so this shouldn’t have come as much of a shock, but last time I saw it, Marcus had his hand wrapped around the base as he came. Whereas now, it’s bobbing free, it’s full length on display, looking bigger than before.

I quickly crouch down, trying to ignore that I’m now at eye level with his rather large, hard cock as I pull his wet boxers down. As they’re completely soaked, they are almost sticking to his skin, and it takes me longer than itshould to get them down. If I believed in a higher power, I’d think they were definitely testing me right now.

As I manage to pull the waistband down over his arse, I feel my nails drag along his flesh, and the noise that comes from Marcus’ throat is like music to my ears. When his cock bobs in front of me, I speed up until he steps out of them.

Once they’re discarded along with the rest of his clothes, he turns so that his back is to me. This way I can reach his hair, and the spray is more directly over his front, so he can clean himself.

I reach over to the shelf by the shower controls and grab a small dollop of shampoo, before I stand on my tip-toes, lifting up my arms towards his hair. He must be able to tell I’m struggling, as he crouches down a little.

I take my time massaging the shampoo into his scalp, running my fingers through the longer strands afterwards. I tell myself I’m just doing a thorough job, when really I just love the feel of his silky hair between my fingers, and my imagination is running wild.

Before I can get lost in more dirty thoughts, I quickly rinse the shampoo out, making sure to massage his scalp as I make sure it’s clean.

Each time I press into just the right spot, or gently rake my nails over his scalp, Marcus practically whimpers as he moans.

“Done,” I tell him when I’ve finished, my voice deep and raspy from all the dirty thoughts.

Marcus turns off the shower and spins around so quickly, I find myself pressed against the shower wall again. “Did you mean it when you said I could have you?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“I’m going to call the doctor and get stitched up. Meet me in my bed, Mio,” he tells me as he climbs out of the shower, pulling a towel around his dripping body.

My heart pounds as I watch him leave, anticipation humming through my body as my mind spins. I quickly strip off my own clothes, taking care to wash all of the blood from my body as I do.

As I shampoo my own hair, my mind wanders to thoughts of what will happen next.

I told him he can have me, but can I have him?

All I know is that I’ve waited my whole life for him, I can’t walk away now, just because there’s a chance I might get my heart broken. This is one of those times when you have to risk your heart, and hope you win in the end.

Getting stabbed wasn’t exactly on my bingo card for today, but it became clear after being at the meeting for only a few minutes that things were going tits up.

We were meeting one of our suppliers, a gang called B23, who had recently been distributing a product that was clearly subpar. After a few emergency hospital admissions, I found out they were cutting their drugs with all manner of shit, which I don’t tolerate.

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