Her gaze went to his groin, and his cock pushed impatiently outward, stiff and erect. She fell to her knees and fisted it in her hands.
“Oh God, Angel,” he whispered when her mouth closed around him. “Don’t, baby. I’m too big, too hard this way. You can’t take me.”
Oh yes, he was aroused, and she was determined she’d take everything he had to give and more.
She relaxed her entire body, gripped his hips and eased him forward until he touched the back of her throat. She sucked in air through her nose and then forced him deeper, taking him all the way to the balls.
She fought the reflex to gag and focused her entire concentration on his pleasure. She eased back, letting him slide over her tongue until the head balanced delicately there. Holding him tight in her hand, she swirled her tongue around the flared edges, exploring the differing textures. Rough, smooth, puckered and silky.
He moaned softly when she took him all the way again. For a long moment she held them there, deep against her throat, until she was forced to relent and ease away again.
This time when she grasped him in her hand, she pulled her mouth away and tilted his cock up so she had access to the underside. She ran her tongue along the thick vein, following it down to his puckered sac.
She licked, kissed and nibbled, letting his balls roll over her tongue. She sucked one into her mouth, and he gave a hoarse shout. She cupped him, fondled him and made sweet love to him with her mouth.
A tiny spurt of fluid spilled onto her cheek where his cock lay as she played with his sac. Knowing he was close, she rocked back on her heels and guided him back into her mouth.
She took him hard and fast, working him with her hand, swallowing him with her mouth. She tightened her grip and clamped down around him as she sucked.
A hot spurt hit the back of her throat. Then another and still it kept coming. She swallowed and continued sucking him, taking him deep, allowing him to pour himself into her mouth.
When the last spilled onto her tongue, she eased up, lapping gently at him, her hand soothing now instead of hard. She cupped his balls and massaged as she finally allowed him to slide from the clasp of her lips.
He was spent. Exhausted. His entire body trembled and a sheen of sweat lay over his skin. She hurried to retrieve the chair, and then climbed up to untie his wrists. He swayed and took a step back, but she was there, tucking herself against his waist and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
“Come with me,” she said quietly. “I’m not finished.”
“I hope to hell you are,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t take any more.”
She smiled and guided him quietly down the hall and into the bedroom. He started for the bed, but she pulled him in the direction of the bathroom.
He went willingly, and she left him long enough to start the shower. Hot and full of steam just the way he liked.
Despite his lethargy, one of his eyebrows went up when she started to pull off her clothes. She ignored him and pushed him toward the shower.
The spray hit them both, and he groaned as the water sluiced over his raw back. For a moment he leaned against the wall of the shower, his forehead resting on his arm. He closed his eyes and let the water wash over him.
She took a washcloth and lathered it well with the bar of soap. Then she began to wash him. Sudsy foam made a trail up his body, only to be washed away as soon as it appeared. She lovingly touched every single part of his skin. She bathed his wounds, caressed his hurts and followed each touch with a gentle kiss.
Her heart welled with love for him. Seeing him vulnerable had shaken her to the core. He was so strong and yet he had needs just as she did. She wanted to tell him he didn’t always have to be the strong one. He could lean on her when he needed to.
After washing and rinsing his hair, she turned the shower off and started to get out. He caught her arm. “But what about you, Angel?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Tonight was all about you, Micah.”
When he reached for the towel she held, she again shook her head and proceeded to dry his body, taking extra care not to abrade his tender back. She wiped all the way down to his feet and back up again. Then she had him sit on the toilet seat so she could dry his hair.
Through it all he watched her with a bemused expression, as if he couldn’t quite figure out what he thought of it all.
Tossing aside the towel, she held out her hand to Micah. For a minute he stared at her and then her hand, before finally sliding his palm over hers and gripping her fingers.
She led him into the bedroom and urged him onto the bed. After toweling her hair one more time to get rid of the wet, she crawled in beside him and pulled the covers over them both. His warmth reached out to her and she snuggled close, pulling him into her arms until his head rested on her breasts.
At this moment, everything was right in her world. Nothing could intrude. Nothing could ruin this moment.
They lay there in silence for a long time. She thought he’d fallen asleep, when he shifted onto his back and pulled her up so she was cradled in the crook of his arm.
“Tell me about Mama Rose, Angel. Why were you there? You were no novice with the whip.”
Her chest heaved with a sigh and she laid her palm over his chest. “I was there for you, Micah. Only you. I practiced because I’d never hurt you with my inexperience. I worked for hours with Mama Rose and one of the other girls there, but you were the only one I ever whipped. You were the only one I ever went there for.”
He swallowed and was silent for a long moment. She waited for the questions, but they didn’t come. She waited for the anger or outrage, but he lay still beside her as if processing what she’d divulged.
“Once a year,” she murmured. “It was the one time I could see you and be with you. I wanted to be close to you, but you weren’t ready. Your grief was still so deep. Maybe I shouldn’t have done it, but the thought of someone else giving you release from your pain was more than I could bear. I wanted to be the one to take care of you.”
A light quiver worked through his body and she felt him inhale sharply.
“That’s what I was missing with Hannah,” he said in a low, pained voice.
She ran her fingers down the midline of his chest and back up again, her movements slow and soothing. She didn’t ask him what he meant. Just waited for him to continue.
“I was always the strong one. It’s what I wanted. It’s what she wanted. She had me and David to protect her, to take care of her.”
“But no one ever took care of you,” she said softly.
“No,” he agreed. “I didn’t think I wanted it. But now . . .”
She raised her head to stare down at him, her hair falling over his chest, still damp. “Now?” she whispered.
“You make me want. You make me want things I’ve never wanted. How is that possible? The idea of sharing myself so deeply with another person. Of trusting them to see me ...”
“Vulnerable?”