“Eighteen, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
They continued. I counted each one, my voice growing shakier as we climbed to twenty, past twenty-five. Somewhere around twenty-eight, everything began to blur. The pain became arousal and the overwhelming sensation of being completely at his mercy.
“How many?” His voice was rougher now, his hand exploring the heated skin gently.
“Twenty-eight, Sir.” I was crying openly now, shaking.
“Good girl.” He kissed across my ass, soothing the burning skin with his lips. “Let’s get you into that bath.”
I could only nod, unable to form words. He untied my wrists carefully, checking for marks, then helped me stand. My legs were unsteady, and my emotions were all over the place. I felt a confusing mix of shame and pride, vulnerability and strength.
He pulled my robe closed and kissed my forehead. “Have you started your bath?”
I gestured weakly, and he guided me there, his arm secure around my waist.
He tested the water before letting some out, adding bubble bath and hot water. Then he helped me out of my robe and into the tub. I hissed as the water touched my tender skin, but then the heat began to soothe.
Lex moved around the bathroom with familiarity, lighting the candles on the counter, finding the speaker and connecting his phone to play soft instrumental music.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, kneeling beside the tub.
Surprisingly, I answered, “Better.”
“Are you still hungry?” His hands began massaging my shoulders, strong and sure.
I couldn’t help the moan that escaped. “Hmm...”
“I’ll take that as a maybe.” He massaged both my legs, working out the tension and soreness from three days of training. By the time he finished, I was practically boneless, floating in the water with my eyes closed.
“I’m going to make you something sweet. Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”
“I’m not sleepy,” I mumbled, already feeling drowsy.
“You really are a brat,” he said, but there was affection in his voice. “I’ll be right back.”
I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, Lex was gently shaking my shoulder. “Cami? The water’s getting cold, beautiful.”
I blinked up at him, disoriented. The water was indeed cooler, and I was stiff again.
“I still need to wash,” I mumbled.
“I’ve got you.” He drained the tub, covered me with a towel while he rinsed away the salt residue, then helped me stand for a quick shower.
I was lightheaded and unsteady, so I didn’t protest when he washed me himself, efficient and thorough but not sexual. WhenI was clean, he dried me carefully, paying extra attention to my tender skin, then wrapped me in my robe and guided me to bed.
He’d brought a tray of chocolate dipped strawberries and he fed them to me in comfortable silence. Me because I was struggling to stay awake, him because he was watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“If you keep staring at me, I’m going to develop a complex,” I joked, unable to hide my smile.
“When you stop nearly falling asleep mid-bite, I will.” His face remained calm, but his eyes were troubled.
“What’s wrong, Lex?” I asked, suddenly more alert.
“I’m just... thinking.”
“About?”
