Page 32 of Blushing Bride

He held my gaze as he reached to the side and poured a liberal amount of body wash onto a washcloth. With practiced confidence, he began to wash me, slowly and steadily. His efforts were thorough, and I couldn’t help but enjoy the way the plush fabric caressed my skin. Everywhere he touched burned with fire, causing the constant pulsing to grow into a veritable firestorm swirling throughout my whole body. He spent a long time on my breasts and between my legs, but that wasn’t what made me blush the most.

He pressed that soapy washcloth between my bottom cheeks as I stood there clutching at his chest. His touch there shocked me, especially when it passed over my asshole.

I hated that a part of me liked it and that made my embarrassment that much worse.

As if he knew what I was thinking, he took his time, drawing out those shameful moments for as long as possible. I hid my face, not wanting him to see how mortified I was that he was touching me in such an indecent place. I especially didn’t want him to see that it aroused me.

When he was finished, I released a long breath. He said nothing, which seemed to be more disconcerting than I’d expected it to be.

“Back down in the water,” he instructed. He offered me a hand as I lowered myself this time. He reached for the bottle of conditioner off to the side and squirted some in his palm. I slipped underneath the water and wet my hair again. When I was ready, he reached for my hair, gradually working in the conditioner strand by strand.

I relaxed for a few long minutes. Ryker fed me a few bites of food as my hair soaked up the conditioner. I sipped the wine and when it was time to rinse off, I slid completely under the water.

The water had finally started to cool, and I shivered.

“Come. Time to get out,” he said. I took his hand when he offered it, but he swept my dripping wet body up out of the tub. He didn’t care about getting himself wet. He placed me down on the plush rug in the center of the room before he wrapped me up in one of my thick towels. He dried me off and I was just about to walk out when he picked me straight up off the floor and carried me into my bedroom while I quietly protested every step.

He sat me down on the bed and grabbed my hairbrush off my dresser. He brushed my hair until there wasn’t a single knot left behind.

“Under the covers,” he directed when he was done.

“Wait,” I blurted out. He stopped and looked quizzically back in my direction. I pressed my thighs together, uncertain of what to do or say to get him to initiate something like he had the other night. I wasn’t sure what our journey together would be like, if we’d have any time alone or if the security team would be watching us for the entire journey.

I didn’t really want to think about it anymore. Mainly, I wanted to come, and I wanted his hands to be the ones to do it.

There was nothing but a towel separating my naked body from him. With a hard swallow, I untucked the one end from underneath my arm and pulled it open. He raised an eyebrow and I had to turn my gaze away, too mortified to say anything and too proud to stop.

Trying to remain brave, I pulled the towel away from my body and laid it beside me on the bed.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded, and the rumbling sound of his voice burned through me. He glanced down, his gaze purposefully lingering on the sight of my pussy. When he glanced back at me, I could see a ravenous hunger burning back at me.

“I’m going to need to take care of that very, very wet little pussy, aren’t I?” he asked. My thighs trembled. Instinctually, they closed a bit before I remembered to keep them open. He grinned a little at the sight of my struggle.

I didn’t answer and he cocked his head, waiting. I chewed my lip and nodded, but the expression on his face told me that it wasn’t enough.

“Yes, sir,” I finally whispered, embarrassed and ashamed and so incredibly aroused to be so willfully on display like this.

“Lie back on the pillows. Keep your legs spread for me.”

My breath caught in the back of my throat. To be honest, I didn’t really know what I had expected, but it definitely wasn’t this.

“I can spank that pussy bright red before I send you to bed. Is that what you need, little girl?” he threatened, and my heart pounded frantically in my chest for a long moment before I shook my head.

“No, sir,” I blurted out, nervous that he would decide to do that rather than make me come.

With a rising sense of self-preservation, I crawled backwards onto the bed. He made no move to lift the covers, so I didn’t either. My fingers brushed against the pillows behind me, and I lay back slowly and spread my thighs once more. He moved to the end of the bed, practically feasting on the sight of my naked body lying before him.

I couldn’t deny that I liked the way it felt.

His aura was one of raw power and it drew me in like a horse to water. I chewed the inside of my cheek, watching anxiously as he leaned over the bed and stared right down at my soaking wet pussy.

When he climbed up with me, my heart leapt into my throat. Before I knew what to do, he was leaning over me with his hands to either side of my waist, his stormy blue eyes staring directly into mine.

“You’re so beautiful like this, wet, afraid, and needy for me,” he mused, and my entire body heated with shameful arousal.

His fingers slid between my legs, gliding up and down my wet folds. I whined openly in disappointment when he pulled them away. I jerked back when he put those same fingers between my lips.

“Taste yourself.”

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