Refined?
Polished?
He was a controlling man but even personalities like his had their own tastes and preferences.
Case in point, my lingerie set he’d picked out.
I headed over to the shower after peeing, the door gliding open soundlessly with a gentle pull. His faucet was confusing as fuck to operate and by the time I got the hot water up and running, I was itching to peel off my set and toss it like it had personally offended me.
Holding back from doing that was a tough effort but one I’d thank myself for in the long run. Especially, considering the stains that looked melted into the fine fabric. Hopefully, whatever local Laundromat was around here had some kind of dry cleaner service in the back.
One that specialized in taking out bodily fluids.
I’d had these particular pieces, aside from the thigh straps, for a long time, and had taken good care of them over the years. It would be a total shame to have to toss them because I was careless and let myself get too wrapped up in Silas to take proper measures to preserve them.
After setting my things on the counter, I hopped into the shower stall and under the spray, my body instantly relaxing themoment the heat began to soak into my skin. Running a hand down my body, I could already tell by touch alone I had faint bruises that felt suspiciously like a pair of hands. Right in the exact spots Silas had held me while drilling into me.
He was insane, getting that out of hand.
And I fucking loved it.
My thighs were sore from muscle strain and having been wrapped around a thickly built waist while my body shook from coming. It wouldn’t surprise me if Silas was also left with some lasting impressions on his body—mainly in the form of my teeth marks around his fingers.
Pride bloomed in me at the thought of that.
While I highly doubted we’d have a round two after this, regardless of the fact of wanting it just as badly as I wanted him the first time around, he’d at least have something to remember me by.
For a little while, anyway.
After washing myself down with his expensive products and finally coaxing myself out from under the warm spray, I grabbed one of the towels hanging up near the stall and wrapped myself up in it, taking another hit of his scent when burying my face in the terry cloth.
How suspicious would I be if I took something home with me?
Actually, the real question was howpervertedwould that make me?
Pilfering something from his house as a little souvenir, namely in the form of some kind of clothing item, just so I could take it back home with me and huff it whenever I felt the need to let my hand wander between my legs.
What I’d gathered from last night was that Silas was also a kinky motherfucker. Maybe even as depraved as me. So perhaps, he wouldn’t mind at all.
He’d seemed all for exercising ownership over my body and pleasure, enough to practically make me sob from how overwhelming it got by the point of my body finally getting to come.Thatwas the kind of man I’d be willing to sneak off on my lunch breaks to meet up with in the parking lot of the hospital to get another taste of.
Ditching the towel after drying my hair, I tossed it back over the bar and unhooked the robe hanging up near the door, the silk gliding over my skin. Glancing over at my set again, I grabbed them and plugged the sink up before filling it with tepid water. This wouldn’t be the perfect solution but it was better than letting it continue to marinate in my and Silas’s fluids.
As soon as I dunked them into the sink, I cut the water and let them soak.
My stomach let out a healthy growl.
“All right, I hear you,” I mumbled, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.
Well and truly fucked out my mind—that was the look reflecting back at me. Satisfied, well rested, pleased.
I had to hand it to Silas, he knew his way around the male anatomy.
Heading out of the bathroom, I spotted Silas’s sleeping form still tucked under the covers, still in the same position I’d left him. Clearly, ifIwas tired from last night, he’d been taken out. Doing all the work for the both of us was exhausting, I could respect that.
Would it be weird to make him breakfast?
Not as a thank you but as… some kind of good-will gesture?
