Page 70 of Curses and Cures

"Here," I say, nudging her arm gently.

Peeling her eyes open she looks from the bottle of body wash back up to me in silent invitation.

"Do you want me to wash you?"

In answer she takes the bottle from me, flips the cap and pours some of the liquid into my open palm. "I need you to wash away every memory of his touch," she says.

Fuck, she's killing me.

My cock twitches, my balls a heavy weight at the base of my dick as I begin to massage her shoulders, gently kneading her muscles, mindful not to press too hard as I work my fingers down her back before working my way back up again.

She lets out a gentle sigh so I grab more of the bath wash, lather up the liquid and gently work my fingers along her collarbone and the expanse of skin above her breasts. Her moans of pleasure intensify as I stroke down her arms, massaging her hands and fingers.

Next, I reach under the water and grasp her ankle, gently resting her foot on the lip of the bath so I can massage her legs too. Her gaze softens, her eyes heavy-lidded as she watches me.

"Is this okay?" I ask once again, making sure I'm interpreting her reactions correctly.

She nods, and when my fingers brush the inside of her thigh her eyes flare with something that surprises me.

Need.

Reaching for my hand beneath the water, she locks eyes with me and slowly slides my hand upwards.

"Cyn, I'm not sure..."

But my voice trails off as she guides my fingers to the soft folds of her pussy.

Fuck.

I can't think straight.

My heart is racing, my dick rock hard as she rocks against my hand.

"Cyn. It's too soon," I whisper hoarsely, pulling my hand away, fighting the need to sink my fingers inside of her.

“He didn’t…” she begins.

“I know.” I reply, thanking whatever greater power there might be that he didn’t rape her. “But you’ve been through so much, Cyn. He hurt you in other ways. I don’t want you to regret anything. I’m trying to protect you.”

"Please, I need tofeelsomething," she begs.

“Let’s talk this out instead.”

“You don’t understand. I need your touch most of all,” she explains, the scratchy sound of her voice hoarse as she continues. “I don't want to feel numb anymore. This is what I want, Lorcan."

“There are things I need to tell you, Cyn—”

“I don’t want to know. Not right now,” she rasps. “Please, just do this for me.”

My resolve crumbles at her words. I can't deny her this.

“At any point if this is too much, or you change your mind, tell me and I’ll stop, okay? I’ll stop.”

She nods, then grabs my hand once more and guides it between her legs. Her lips part as I gently rub the pad of my thumb against her clit, circling her delicate flesh, watching her face for signs of distress.

But when she moans in pleasure, not pain, I continue, encouraged by the way her body rocks against my hand. Slowly I explore her, gently inserting a finger inside of her when she spreads her legs a little wider. She whimpers, her nipples puckering as she arches her back.

For long minutes, I gently touch her, my own body trembling with need as I watch her mouth part on a moan and her head tip back as she arches her spine.

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