Page 51 of King of Praise
Chapter 14
Tender Dominance
Micah
Still buried deep inside her, I watch a bead of sweat roll down Naomi’s neck, disappearing into her collarbone. Aftershocks ripple through her body, squeezing my oversensitive cock. Our ragged breathing fills the cabin, mingling with the crackling of the dying fire.
Jesus fucking Christ, I’ve never experienced anything like this. After decades of meaningless encounters, of keeping everyone at arm’s length, the intensity of our connection staggers me.
Moonlight streams through the windows, casting silver patterns across her flushed skin. Her red curls spread wild against the pillow, her lips swollen from my kisses. She looks thoroughly ravished and utterly perfect.
Pride and possessiveness surge through me, knowing I put that satisfied expression on her face.Mine. The thought hits with a primal force.
With careful movements, I withdraw from her warmth. My release trickles down her inner thigh, marking her in the most primitive way. The sight sends another surge of desire through my body, immediately followed by concern as rational thought returns.
“Fuck.” I run a hand through my hair. “I didn’t use protection. I’m sorry, lovely. That was careless of me.”
She pulls me down for a soft kiss. “It’s okay. I have an IUD.”
Relief floods through me but doesn’t erase my sense of responsibility. I should have asked first, should have discussed this before losing myself in her body. My iron control, honed through decades of discipline, crumbles around this woman.
“Still. I should have been more careful. Asked for your permission to fuck you bare.” I brush a stray curl from her face.
The smile on her face nearly breaks me. So trusting and pure. “I would have said yes.”
I give her light kiss. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”
The need to nurture, to demonstrate that my dominance extends beyond sexual pleasure, propels me from the bed. Moving with purpose through the cabin, I fill the large jacuzzi tub with steaming water. Among her toiletries, I find lavender bath oil and add a generous capful. The soothing scent rises with the steam, transforming our rustic cabin into something more luxurious.
When I return to the bed, Naomi watches me through heavy-lidded eyes, her body languid against the sheets. The sight of her—thoroughly fucked and completely trusting—stirs something fierce in my chest. Without a word, I gather her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. Her slight weight reminds me of our physical disparity, of the care I must take with my strength.
“I can walk, you know,” she mumbles, though she makes no move to escape my hold.
“I know.” I press a kiss to her temple. “Let me do this for you.”
Lowering her into the steaming water, I’m rewarded with a soft sigh of pleasure as warmth envelops her body. After giving her a moment to adjust, I step in behind her, my larger framemaking the space intimate rather than cramped. She settles back against my chest, fitting perfectly between my thighs.
The ritual of bathing her becomes an act of reverence. I take my time working shampoo through her curls, my fingers massaging her scalp with firm pressure. The soft sounds she makes—somewhere between contentment and arousal—feed something deep in my soul. Using cupped handfuls of water, I rinse her hair with careful attention, shielding her eyes from suds.
Then I repeat the same process with her conditioner. The feel of her silky, wet curls slipping through my fingers is erotic. I could run my fingers through her hair like this for hours and not get bored.
A soft washcloth becomes an instrument of devotion as I cleanse every inch of her body. From the delicate skin behind her ears to the spaces between her toes, I leave no part of her untouched. Throughout this careful attendance, praise flows naturally from my lips.
“You’re so beautiful.” I press a kiss to her shoulder. “So perfect and responsive for me.”
Each compliment brings a visible reaction—a blush spreading across her cheeks, a pleased smile, a soft exhale. Her sensitivity to praise fascinates me, awakening my desire to discover all the ways I can use words to bring her pleasure. After years of Lucas’s criticism and cruelty, she deserves nothing but adoration.
“Such a good girl,” I say as I run the washcloth down her arms. “Letting me care for you so thoroughly.”
She shivers despite the warm water, pressing back against my chest. “I like when you say things like that.”
“I know you do, lovely.” My free hand slides up her ribcage to cup her breast. “Your body tells me exactly what you need.”
When the water begins cooling, I help her from the tub, wrapping her in a large towel before quickly drying myself. She reaches for the towel, but I bat her hands away gently.
“Let me.”
With the same thorough attention I applied to bathing her, I dry every inch of her body. When she protests that she can manage herself, I explain without embarrassment. “This is what a Dom does—takes care of his submissive after she’s given herself so completely to his control.”
