I gulped the rest of the bottle down and tossed it aside. I’d tried being mad. I’d tried pouting. What would be my next game plan to purge Seth from my soul?
I stood up, wobbled, steadied myself and then pulled my body up into perfect posture. “Which room is mine?” I asked. “I need a shower.”
Seth stood up, crossed the room, and wrapped his hand against my upper arm. “This way,” he ordered as he pulled me down the hall. We passed one bedroom door and then pushed the second door open. “This is your room, Baker. Come on, let’s get you to the shower.” He kept pulling at my arm and I kept following. Once inside the luxurious bathroom, he began stripping my clothes off. It wasn’t sexual. His movements were gentle yet firm and he had me stripped in seconds. “Don’t move,” he told me as he moved toward the shower, turned the water on, and waited until he felt like the temperature was acceptable. When he was satisfied, he motioned for me to step underneath the hot spray. I hissed when the water made contact with my burning ass and he quickly turned me around. “I have some cream for that. I’ll put it on you once you’ve showered.” He looked at me and asked, “Do I need to wash you? If you’re too weak, I’ll handle it for you.”
I wanted him to, but I also knew my body couldn’t handle more of his…touch. Not yet. Every inch of my body was over—sensitized, and Seth was responsible for that sensitivity. Damn him. “I’ve, uh, got it,” I answered weakly. “Can I be alone for a few minutes? I…kinda need it.” I forced myself to look him in the eye and added, “I promise I’ll yell if I feel dizzy or weak.”
He studied me, looking for dishonesty, and finally agreed, “Okay, but yell, Baker. I’ll be here within seconds. I’m going to grab the cream and I’ll wait for you in your bedroom. Don’t bother getting dressed yet. Your ass will appreciate my medicated cream.”
I nodded because it was all I could do. If I opened my mouth, I might beg him to stay. When I closed my eyes, I could see his hands, slippery with soap, washing the sweat and dried cum from my body. “I’m good. Please leave.”
“Are you sure, Baker?”
“More than sure,” I growled. I expected him to get angry or frustrated with me. Instead he chuckled softly…which was even worse, I supposed.
“You are definitely going to keep me on my toes. First my aftercare isn’t enough and now it’s too much.” He ran his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp in the process, and said, “Don’t worry. We’ll get there in due time. It’s a learning process for both of us…Baker.”
He left the room, pulling the door toward him but leaving it cracked so he could hear in case I needed him. How in the hell did he know what him saying my name did to me? Why did it do something to me? I pushed the thoughts away and rushed through the process of scrubbing myself clean. It was my cum dried on my skin, not his. Seth had yet to get any relief during our encounters. I had to be honest with myself, I sucked as a Dom’s sub.
It would have been easy to stay hidden in the shower and contemplate my shortcomings, but I knew if enough time passed, Seth would come after me. With my body clean and hair washed, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed an extra fluffy towel—where did they find towels this fluffy? Thankfully, it was as soft as I imagined clouds would be and wasn’t too rough on my abused flesh. After wrapping the towel around my waist, I brushed my teeth. Flossed. Shaved. Towel dried my hair. Cleaned up the mess I’d made in the bathroom. Used the toilet. Paced the confines of the super-sized room a couple of times. Then, and only then, did I admit I’d run completely out of stalling methods. It was time to face Seth and his delightful cream, which I assumed he intended to rub on my sore ass. Nice.
His words about the aftercare popped into my head. He was one hundred percent correct, but, in my defense, the first time had been his problem, not mine. Tonight, however, was all me. The thing was, I suspected I knew what both our problems were—we’d each enjoyed the encounters more than we’d known we would. Seth had wanted to dislike me…to prove I couldn’t be a worthy sub since I wasn’t gay. My goal had been to prove him wrong. I’d known my training would get me through any stumbling blocks he tried to throw my way—well, except for the one where my body, the damned fucking traitor it was, wanted him. In all the possible scenarios I’d tumbled around in my head, this had never been one of them.