The Hunters

Chapter Fifty-Six*

 I hopped in the shower while Ghost stripped his own clothing, hesitating in front of the mirror as his fingers gripped the bottom of his mask. "You don't have to remove it," I reassured him, his eyes narrowed with conflict as he met my gaze.

"I thought I was ready," he admitted softly, breaking my heart.

Gesturing beneath the sink, I offered, "There's a sleep mask under there. Let me wash my face and hair, then I'll wear it. Or I can get out of–oh, you already found it." Ghost was quick to reach beneath the drawers, rummaging through with a quick focus before grabbing the mask. Giggling as my abdomen tightened once again, I quickly washed my face, scrubbing my hair as well before rinsing.

Drying my face, I took the sleep mask he offered, seeing the appreciation in his eyes. Slipping the mask over my eyes, I tensed, feeling suddenly vulnerable and unsafe–like in the cave. "Shh, shh," Ghost reassured me when he saw my panic. "Sit on the bench. I'll be right there. Just need to remove this stuff from my face."

I couldn't find the bench, or more so, was unable to move. I listened to him while I remained stiff beneath the warm water, needing to pay attention to the sound of the sink running and his occasional groan from soreness. Bare fingers touched me when the glass door opened, and I flinched, hearing his gentle voice whispering in front of me, "I'm right here, Storm. You're safe. I had no idea this would bother you. Do you need to take that off?"

He was willing to have me see his face in order to soothe my fears. While my heart warmed at the sincerity of his concern, I shook my head, telling him, "I-I can handle it."

"Did they...?"

He wanted to know if I was blindfolded as a POW. "Sometimes. But it was mostly just darkness in the cave," I whispered, his fingers gripping my waist to tug me into a hug. I felt the full, exposed front of his body against mine. He was already hard, his member nudging my inner thighs as he affectionately cradled me. "Oh, this is much better."

"Horn dog," he teased, and I reached down to stroke him, bringing a grunt out of his throat. "Oh, naughty girl. Let me wash you before we get dirty."

"Y-you're w-washing me?" I stuttered in a combination of arousal and fear, still insecure without my sight. Ghost hummed his confirmation, and I listened to him open the bottle of body wash, getting the rag wet. He must have grabbed another rag from beneath the sink, scrubbing himself quickly before beginning to carefully caress my body with the soap.

Ghost took his time, scrubbing from my neck downward in gentle, swirling motions. My inner thighs warmed as he ventured lower, kneeling in front of me while he scrubbed my legs and rear. His movements slowed as he built my anticipation, my impatience growing as I pictured him grinning devilishly at my whines.

After rinsing the rag and his hands, he finally gave in to my pitiful whimpers, his long fingers surprising me when I didn't see his approach. The digits stroked my folds before slipping between, his thumb teasing my clit in circular motions while two fingers entered me. He stroked and caressed me until I nearly buckled, his other hand gently tugging my hip until I fell onto the cold tile bench.

My legs spread widely for him, my fingers gripping the edge of the bench as he chuckled. "What a good girl," he murmured, his lips replacing his thumb as he licked and sucked until I was a pool of arousal beneath his control. He was surprisingly gentle, consuming me until my thighs squeezed and my back arched.

I moved to hold his head in place, feeling his strong fingers wrap around my wrists to pin them on the tile. He withdrew, taunting me, "Ah-ah. If you want more, you're going to have to beg."

I was desperate for him to continue. Desperate for more. He'd tried this in the past; tried to make me beg and submit to him. Beneath the blindfold, I had lost my resolve, overwhelmed by my remaining senses as he tormented me to near orgasm. My lips trembled as he waited, emotion swelling in my chest as I whispered, "Please."

"Please, what?" He was so darn proud of my whimpered plea, giving me a quick stroke of his tongue as a reward. I twitched and whimpered again, my hips arching as I physically begged for more.

"Please don't stop. I-I need more," I continued, and he was on me in an instant. His fists held mine down as he quickly brought me back to the brink of ecstasy. I released a soundless cry as the waves began, his tongue and fingers drawing out the climax until I was left panting and limb on the bench.

"Good girl," Ghost praised, stroking my cheek while I caught my breath. "Your therapist was right, wasn't he?"

As much as I wanted to argue or protest, a small smile crossed my face as I admitted, "He might have had a point."