“Shhh, don’t talk.”
His hand pressed against my ass and I grimaced when pain shot through my hip and leg. He did ease off as soon as he noticed, but he kept a straight face, covering my lips with his thumb. It was my cue not to speak.
My arms fell to my sides when he abruptly stepped back. The sudden loss of balance caused me to put pressure on my foot, which went right to my knee. He held onto one hand and ordered me to sit with a nod. I gasped when my ass hit the cold marble, the jolt causing excruciating pain. I glanced up and searched his eyes for a clue to his mood. But he wasn’t angry, as I’d expected. Instead, he laid me down on the bench with gentle care, one arm around my back and a palm on my ribs.
It took a moment for me to relax into the cold marble, waiting for my sore muscles and bones to adjust, but I did. It was actually sort of comfortable.
I closed my eyes when he nudged open my legs.
“Keep your eyes open,” he quietly ordered.
I watched him walk away, retrieving the tools needed to remove the hair between my legs.
Again, no words were spoken. I lay perfectly still while Paxton used the humming shaver on me. Besides the embarrassment fact—my punishment—it wasn’t too bad. Not yet anyway. My eyes fluttered shut when his fingers opened me more for better access with the trimmers. Of course he ordered me to open them again. Other than that, we never spoke.
Once he finished with the trimmers, he turned on the water and removed one of the showerheads. Our eyes locked and I swallowed when the water hit my chest. Thank God it was warm. Paxton moved the sprayer down my body and between my legs, rinsing away my covering. Paxton watched my eyes, or maybe my expression. The water rained over me, straight down the center of my body, right between my legs.
My nerves kicked up a bit when he stepped out, returning with the straight edge. Jesus. He was really going to go there. If it was a plot to scare me, it worked. His hand massaged shaving cream around the leftover stubbles, and then he dropped to his knees. I didn’t move, not even to breathe.
Paxton took great care in shaving me clean. Slow, slippery strokes moved in every crevice. The time seemed to drag, and my body started to reject the hard position. I felt like Paxton sensed the discomfort and sped up on behalf of me. Then again, that could have been me looking for something good in him. Once again, he retrieved the handheld showerhead and adjusted the temperature
Warm water rained over my body while shaving cream ran in a swirl down the drain. No words were spoken between us. Not even when he replaced the water with a thin line of purple shower gel down my body, around my nipples and to the openness of my slit. Lavender.
My body relaxed with his touch. Both hands massaged soap into foam with soft strokes, and I forgot about being uncomfortable. Not one inch went untouched. He explored every part of my body. Each finger to the tip, every tickling toe, and every intimate place. I stopped breathing again that time, too.
Paxton’s fingers slid easily over the pucker in my ass and my body tensed. One finger penetrated me, and slid back out. The attention he paid to my throbbing nub insured I moaned, more than once, every time feeling the penetration in my ass and my overzealous nub.
Once again, endorphins canceled all rational thoughts in my mind. My good leg might have even parted a little more. That was when he stopped. Right when I would have let him do anything he wanted. The point of no return. I didn’t have to worry about it. Paxton didn’t let me get there to even worry about a return. He ran his hand down my slippery folds and back to the pucker in my ass with pressure.
Instant pain shot down my hip when I arched my back, but it was easy to ignore. My lips parted and I fought the moan when Paxton opened me with his fingers and slapped my pulsating clit. Maybe I liked to be punished. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all. I fought hard to keep my composure, curling my fingers into tight fists. Paxton stopped as soon as I whimpered, feeling the onset of release. An impending orgasm, I wouldn’t have.
Jerk.
Paxton smirked and moved to my head. I could see his hardness protruding through his thin basketball shorts, now wet and spotted with water. At first, I thought he was going to make me give him a blowjob, but he didn’t. He rinsed my hair, and then carefully blended suds into my scalp, softly moving over my scars. One welt over the left side of my head, and one near the back.