"Come here," I say, stepping into the shower.
She follows, and when the hot water hits her skin, she makes a small sound of pleasure that goes straight to my cock. I reach for the soap, working up a lather in my hands.
"Turn around."
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
She turns, presenting me with the long line of her back, and I start washing her slowly. My soapy hands move over her shoulders, down her spine, learning every curve and hollow.
"This is nice," she says softly.
"It's not supposed to be nice. It's supposed to be necessary."
"Why?"
"Because you're mine now, and I always take care of what's mine."
My hands move lower, over the curve of her ass, and she tenses slightly.
"Relax," I murmur against her ear. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"I know. It's... this is new for me."
"Having someone wash you?"
"Touch me like they own me."
"I do own you. Don’t forget that."
The words slip out before I can stop them, more honest than I intended to be. But instead of pulling away, she leans back against me.
"Do you really believe that?" she asks.
I think about the question. Do I believe I own her? Or do I want to?
"What do you think? Do you doubt me?"
"I think you're used to getting what you want."
"I am."
"And you want me."
"Obviously, I do. The question is why you want me back."
She's quiet for a moment. "Because I need to know if this is about me, or if I'm just convenient."
I turn her around to face me, and the vulnerability in her eyes causes me to pause. She's asking me to be honest with her, to give her something real instead of just possession and control.
"You really want the truth?" I ask.
"Yes."
"The truth is, I've been with a lot of women. Pretty women, experienced women, women who knew exactly what they were doing and what they wanted from me. And none of them made me feel like I was losing my fucking mind."
"Is that good or bad?"
