Page 38 of Pieces of Halves

The question throws me off guard. She has so much on her mind. My problems are small compared to hers.

“They’re fine. I’ll be okay.” I offer her a smile.

There’s no need to worry her with problems I have no idea how to solve. She stares at me for a moment as if deciphering something.

“If you need a massage, I am more than happy to do so.” She reaches up and places her palm on my cheek.

The warmth of her skin against mine is comforting. It’s enough to remind me that I have a woman who cares for me – someone who gave me her trust even with all of her fears. Tilting my face, I kiss her hand.

“I know. Thank you. I’m going to help you get undressed, all right?” I take her chin between my fingers.

She nods, her eyes sparkling. Letting go of her face, I undo the buttons of her blouse. She watches me, her chest rising alittle heavier. My lips curve up at her reaction. The way she responds to my touch does not get old.

She has become my everything so quickly. I don’t mind. I love everything that she makes me feel. She allows me to play games with her body that give me a rush that I have never felt before, freeing something in my soul. It fills a hole in my heart, reminding me that I deserve someone to stay for me. I wield this power coursing through my veins, yet nothing compares to her submission. She gives me her fragile trust, and I feel as if it is my duty to keep it safe, protected, and keep it unharmed.

Without looking away from her, I toss the blouse to the side and take off her bra. Eyes falling to her breasts, my groin tightens with the need to knead her flesh while she squirms under my touch.

The maids are still in the room, standing by the bathtub, waiting to wash her. Izzy glances at them. I have no intention of letting them wash her, but the way Izzy looks at me says she wants them to know I am hers. Izzy is a jealous woman. She won’t admit to it, but she is.

I drop to my knees in front of her, my face at the level of her belly, and she looks down at me, her eyes wide, pink coloring her cheeks. With a sly smirk, I reach behind her waist and unzip her skirt. Pulling it down, I trace my fingers along her skin. She inhales and places her hands on my shoulders.

Gliding my fingers up along the inside of her leg, I pull down her underwear. She wiggles her hips to help the fabric come off and digs her fingers into my muscles. My chest tightens at the sight of her slit so close to my face. It would feel so incredible to insert my fingers inside of her and watch her squirm and shiver.

Biting my lower lip, I slide my finger between her folds and press it to her clit, the moisture of her arousal covering it. She gasps and puts her body weight on me. Smiling, I pull away and get up to stand across from her. She is practically panting already. I love it. I need her to crave me fearlessly.

“Let’s get you washed,” I whisper, and she blinks a few times.

“Um, yes,” she mumbles and turns towards the tub.

I follow her body with my eyes, enjoying her every curve. She slips into the tub with a hiss when the water makes contact with her skin. Ripples of clear liquid surround her, and the maids make their way to her. Glancing at them, I shake my head. I will bathe her, touch her, and make her want more with every stroke.

The maids step back and stand still, hiding their knowing smiles. Getting comfortable on a ridiculously small chair behind Izzy, I lather the shampoo in my hands and work it into her hair. She leans her head back and flutters her eyes shut. The tops of her breasts peak out from the surface of the water, tempting me to knead them.

She is so perfect.

I tear my gaze away from her perky mounds and pour clean water over her head. With a sponge and some soap, I carefully work on her arms. Washing away the dirt, I look for the scrapes and gashes, but I don’t find any. There were at least four that I saw earlier.

“Did you heal yourself?” I whisper into her ear so the maids don’t hear, and look over at her other arm.

“I just kept thinking about it in hopes that it works,” she mumbles, turning her head to look at me.

Our noses touch, our lips are only a few centimeters away. Her face is clean, but a few drops of water linger on her eyelashes. Pink covers the tops of her cheeks, creating an alluring tinge. I place my lips on hers – slowly, tenderly. She tastes like home and sweet apple pie. Heat travels through my veins, and the need to hear her moaning grows.

Kissing her deeper, I place my hand over her breast and squeeze. The softness of her skin makes my erection throb. She whimpers breathlessly, and blood leaves my brain. Sliding my hand through her wet hair, I hold her head steady, and I pinch her nipple. She makes a move to turn, but I restrain her motion and slide my tongue to play with hers.

The water splashes softly as I move my hand lower to her hip. My mind goes foggy at how she tries to reach for me. I slip my finger between her folds, gliding through the moisture. She gasps into my mouth, thrusting her hips. Pulling at her hair to arch her head, I kiss her neck softly while barely touching her clit.

“Jacob,” she breathes out my name.

The need in her voice drives me insane, making my hardness strain against my pants. Groaning, I pull away and slide my hand away from her. Her eyes flutter open. I smile as I come around to help her stand. She takes my extended hand and gets up, water dripping down her smooth skin. Scanning her, I savor her every curve. Her nipples harden, creating the urge to lick and bite them.

My chest and abdomen tight with the need to see her writhing at my touch, I pick up the pitcher with the clean water and pour it over her shoulders and chest. She closes her eyes and tilts her head to one side and then the other. Her every motionis magical, forcing me to stare in awe as her skin stretches and muscles glide.

A maid comes forth with a towel. Without tearing my gaze away from Izzy, I extend my hand and take the cloth. I can’t look away from how peaceful and calm she looks. She steps out of the tub slowly, and I wrap her in the fabric, drying her. Our bodies barely an inch apart, she looks up at me.

She is delicate, beautiful, resilient, and smart. She is mine.

Our eyes locked, I run my finger along her cheek and down her jaw, enjoying the sensation of her skin against my fingertips. I place my thumb on her lower lip, tugging at it. Her mouth parts just the slightest, her breathing heavy. Oh, the things I crave to do to her.

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