Sacrifice

19. After...

+Melantha Collins+

I took steady breaths, knowing I'd be so fucking sore tomorrow.

I can feel his cum leaving me slowly, my thighs clamped to catch anything. He was so hot on me, I'm so cold now.

Empty. Frigid. Trembling. Waiting.

I heard the door open and he walked past the bed, turning on the bath fosset.

He came to me. "I'll clean whatever falls." He turned me and picked me up bridal style like it was the easiest thing he'd ever done.

He sat me on the toilet and left again.

I wiped my eyes, my mascara hardened on my lashes.

I tried to ignore the stinging on my ass. He hit me so hard I knew it would be an interesting recovery process for that specific bruise.

I replayed the events. The way he straddled me.

The words.

The warmth of his come inside me. The warmth of his body. His hands.

I used the bathroom and waited, unknowing what to do from here when my knees were so weak I knew I couldn't stand alone.

He came in and handed me a bottle of water.

He opened it for me, I took sips, it was so good. I love water.

He turned and grabbed my makeup remover and got it set up.

He helped me stand.

"Come here." He pulled me against him.

He nodded to the mirror and I looked back, seeing how his hand left a mark on my ass. It was bad. But satisfying.

He moved my hair to show the marks near my shoulders and along my back.

He turned me so my ass was against him, his hands at my hips for support.

I didn't even realize he left hickey's along my front. I don't remember when that happened.

His tattooed hand came around my throat and lifted my gaze to his.

"Look at that pretty face." He murmured and I looked at myself.

I looked... fucked. And tired.

"Such a pretty girl." His other hand came around and gripped the skin of my stomach. Something I feel I would've been self conscious about but the way he did it was... really good.

He lifted his head slightly, looking at the second skin over the fresh tattoo on his throat.

He brought his head down and kissed the spot between where my shoulder and neck meet.

He grabbed my hands and put them on the counter before letting me go and turning off the fosset.

He came back, picking me up and setting me into the water.

It was so hot my skin was itching immediately.

"I know I'm sorry." He told me.

But when I settled, it was so nice.

He ran the shower, jumping in and I watched.

He was quick but thorough, I shut my eyes, relaxing.

My chest felt... heavy. It was a weird feeling.

The warmth of the bath began making me sweat and I tried breathing even though I was beginning to feel some sort of anxiety.

I took a heavy breath.

"You okay bunny? I'll be out in a second." He said.

I hummed as my ears began ringing a bit.

I felt faint.

"Uhm... no I don't." I sat up, wiping my damp forehead.

He came out of the shower, walking over to me.

He mumbled words in his own language.

"Pray I don't slip." He whispered as he leaned down, picking me up.

I shut my eyes and felt a lump in my throat.

Cold water hit my body, shocking me into swallowing that feeling.

He sat on the little bench in the shower and brought me to straddle him as cold water hit my hair and ran down the back of me.

"Lean back, you need it on your face and neck." He said, his arms fully supporting me as I leaned back, lying my head back and letting the water run along my face as I held my breath.

"Are you anxious?" He asked.

"I'm not sure."

He proceeded to wash my hair while I was like this, I sat up just a bit to where it was only hitting my hair and I was freezing, but internally this was perfect.

One hand washed my scalp, the other around my lower back to keep me supported.

I touched over his chest.

Grabbed onto his shoulders and felt my eyes sting.

He washed the shampoo from my hair and pulled me against him, my head tucked under his chin, his hand running along my body.

And I broke out in sobs. Uncontrollable tears, but I didn't feel like anything inside. Just heavy.

"Shhhh, it's okay bunny, I've got you." He pet my head.

He moved me from the water, conditioning my ends.

"Breathe, stop holding your breath." He said softy, but stern.

I exhaled, hiccuping as I inhaled. I don't cry what the fuck is my problem.

He rinsed it off, standing as he held my thigh, grabbing the adjustable shower head.

"I need you to stand for me." He said and I dropped my legs from his waist.

He sat.

"Spread your legs for me, please." He tapped my thigh and I did,

He adjusted the pressure of the shower head.

He got between my thighs and I gasped, my hands on his shoulders as my body throbbed with pain and discomfort.

"I know, pretty baby. I know. Breathe, I gotta clean you up." He did, warm water, gently ensuring I was fine before standing in front of me.

He washed my body, before drying me off with a towel.

"What do you feel like wearing?"

"I don't know." I wiped my eyes.

He pulled one of my large black T-shirts over my head.

"I know you're hurting, we can go without any bottoms."

He got changed and I groaned, feeling my eyes water again as I clamped them shut.

He grabbed my throat and I opened my eyes in shock.

"It's okay to cry, it doesn't really mean anything you just need to cry it out. Unless there is an issue?" He asked.

"No I just... I'm fine." I groaned.

"I know you are, but you're also dehydrated and hungry. Let's get you some food, Mel." He moved his hand to cup my face, wiping his thumb over my lips.

"Okay."