Page 19 of Malachi
I knew it. I knew it deep in my bones that I had royally and truly fucked this up beyond recognition. What in the ever-loving, god-forsaken fuck was I thinking!?
Eden was in my arms, her head resting against my shoulder, her arms wrapped around my neck, as I carried her towards the house. My mind was racing with a million thoughts, none of them taking hold enough for me to make a solid decision.
I had just scened with the woman. Not just sex, it was a fucking scene. But it wasn’t. But it was.
Fuck!
I knew better. Everything within me, the years of training and education I had accumulated, told me I knew better than to fucking scene with someone without negotiating. Jesus Christ Almighty, there were a million things I had just done wrong, and it was eating away at my very soul. I was the Scum of the Earth for pushing Eden, my fucking wife, into that. The kernel of logic that remained in my sex-addled brain prevailed, however.
Regardless of what had transpired, the fact of the matter was that it had happened. And therefore, I needed to provide her with aftercare. It couldn’t be what she deserved, but it would be something. In order for her to get the aftercare I wanted desperately to provide her, I would have to come clean about everything. That was completely illogical and reckless and simply could not be done. Not now, likely not ever.
I would care for her. She deserved that, at the bare minimum.
We made our way through the tree line, the house in view. She snuggled into my neck, her warm breath fanning over my skin, igniting the last vestiges of pleasure and passion and making them linger. Her small frame was easy to carry, the feel of her form against me evoking conflicting feelings in myself. She was barely an adult. I had been firm in my feelings on the matter. Yet, as the soft curves of her body pressed against me, I could not deny it any longer. She was not a child, but a woman in her own right.
I stepped up onto the porch, opening the door and carefully carrying her inside.
“Malachi, you don’t have to carry me,” she whispered against my neck.
“No more talking,” I muttered. I didn’t want to discourage her from speaking her truth, yet I wasn’t sure I could handle any of the questions that were likely burning in her mind. Not at that moment.
As I carried her up the stairs, I could feel the way her breathing had slowed, the motions of my walking lulling her into a restful state. It wasn’t uncommon after such an event. As we entered the bedroom, I helped her down to her feet, watching as her eyes blinked slowly, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.
“I’ll get your pajamas for you,” I muttered somewhat awkwardly, unsure of what exactly to say at the moment. It dawned on me that I hadn’t thought this through. I wanted to give her care, yet every version of the care I wished to give was so deeply intimate I worried it would be too much, too soon.
Her hand shot out as I turned towards the dresser, stopping my progression.
“Stay with me,” she pleaded, her eyes wide with a longing I could not deny.
Fuck it.
Regardless of what the outcome might be, I would give her the aftercare she deserved. I took her hand in mine, guiding her towards the bathroom.
“What are we doing?” she asked quietly.
“I’m giving you care. Now, no more questions,” I urged her quietly. I shut the door firmly behind us, turning towards her. For the time being, I would forget that she was the bride I never wanted. I would push away the age difference and her innocence. Tonight would be what it needed to be. A scene, and the care needed in the aftermath.
She spoke no more words as I carefully pulled the tattered remains of her dress from her shoulders, letting them fall to the floor. I moved around her frame, deftly unlatching the hooks of her bra before sliding the straps down her arms. I knelt behind her, tugging down her panties as I pressed a small kiss to her spine at her lower back. The gentle curve of her body called to me and I let myself answer that call. Just for tonight.
She stepped carefully out of her undergarments and I stood once more, taking her by the hand and leading her to the shower. I opened the glass door, turning on the water and checking to make sure it was heating well before I helped her step in. She didn’t need my help; it was a walk-in shower, but it did the dominant part of me good to help in some small way.
She released my hand, stepping into the hot spray of water with a sigh of relief. I made to close the glass door, but her hand reached out, pressing against the quickly fogging glass.
I looked up in surprise, meeting her sapphire eyes.
“Join me,” she murmured. I thought it over for all of three seconds before I began disrobing. Once my clothes were firmly situated in a pile on the floor, I stepped into the shower behind her, the warmth of the steam already easing the tension in my muscles. It had been a long day, and strong as I may be, holding a woman against a tree while I fucked her into oblivion took effort.
She faced away from me; her face taking the brunt of the water’s spray as she let the water run down her body in steaming rivulets. Her hair hung down the length of her back, smooth as silk and dark as night. I raised my hand, letting my fingertips run over the velvety strands. She turned to me, her head having to fall back in order to look at my face with a smile.
“Care for me, Malachi,” she spoke, stepping closer to me. Our bodies were a mere breath away from each other. Though we had just fucked like animals in the woods, this was something entirely unique in its own way. It was intimacy. Something that did not come easily to me. We were more vulnerable, more bare to one another, closer than we had been with our bodies literally connected as we had been only minutes ago.
I ran my fingers through her hair, shifting my body that last breath of space towards her until my firmness met her softness. Her body pressed against mine, her nipples pressing against my stomach as I let myself indulge in the beauty that was her.
Her arms wound around my waist, her fingers playing along my skin absentmindedly. Though, for me, it felt incredibly intentional. Our eyes stayed locked on one another until I could not bear it a moment longer. I looked away, clearing my throat as I reached for the shampoo bottle that sat on the small shelf behind her. I lathered her long hair, taking time to massage my fingers along her scalp as her eyes closed. She breathed a sigh of bliss with a smile.
“That feels amazing,” she groaned. I couldn’t help but smirk in response, still unable to trust myself to speak. I tilted her hair back a moment later, letting the water rinse her long locks clean. As I smoothed the hair down her back, surprised at just how long it was, she spoke again.
“Kiss me,” she murmured, her lips so close to my body I could feel her breath on my chest. I ignored her, choosing to reach for the natural loofah instead. I would give her care, but to kiss like lovers in a moment such as this felt wrong.
