Page 62 of Malachi
With her hands still touching me at all times, she led me into the shower.
The shock of the water against my skin woke me from my stupor.
“Eden,” I protested, needing to find the Beast again, to find the dominance that I resonated and lived in, but she quieted me once more.
“Malachi, for once, let me,” she rebuked. I could only look down at her in confusion. “Let me care for you. You may be the husband. You may be the Beast, the dominant, whatever word you want to use. But you’re still human, and as such, you are deserving of care and you will allow me to give it. As your wife, as your little bird, and as your submissive.”
Her words floored me, stunned me to speechlessness.
My mouth opened, and then promptly shut again. I wanted to say something, to refuse her, to rebuke her advances, but no words formed. I stood there, shocked at this creature before me.
“Give in, Malachi. Let go for once in your life and accept the comfort I’m offering you. The comfort you deserve.” My mouth closed as her words soothed the raw, aching wounds that years of emotional damage had left. I didn’t have an argument. Or perhaps I did, but simply didn’t want to choose the argument over the idea of actual comfort for once in my life.
Instead, I let it happen. I kept my mouth closed, and I allowed her this moment. Just this one. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths as I forced myself to relax. Her touch surprised me, the soft loofah running over my chest as the water poured over us. She lathered the soap over my body slowly, with such gentleness and reverence that it threatened to be my undoing. Granted, it seemed that minute by minute, everything about Eden was becoming my undoing.
It was too much, and yet everything I wanted, all at the same moment. Her touch moved down my body, washing every part of me. It should have been sexual. Sexual I could have handled. But this was entirely new, entirely different. When I felt her lips touch my stomach, the water washing the suds away, my eyes finally opened.
“You deserve care, Malachi,” she whispered, her breath fanning over my abdomen as she knelt before me, washing my legs softly. I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I accepted her touch.
“So do you,” I whispered, my throat tight with the emotion I was trying so desperately to hold at bay.
“And you have shown me more care than anyone else in this world. So please be quiet and allow me to do the same for you,” she pushed back with a grin.
We stayed silent as she finished bathing me, the silence continuing as I returned the favor. We stayed just like that, reverently giving each other care, until the water had grown tepid and then downright cold.
It wasn’t until later, when we were curled up in bed, wrapped around one another, that I finally found words.
“Thank you,” I muttered quietly into the silkiness of her hair.
“You don’t need to thank me, Malachi,” she insisted, snuggling closer into me, her back pressed tightly against my chest.
“I’ve never had someone do that before,” I admitted. It wasn’t easy, being vulnerable like that. Everything inside of me still fought against it, even now as we lay together quietly.
“Well, get used to it, because this whole thing is a two-way street. The kink, the plan, the marriage… it’s the two of us both giving of ourselves to each other.” Her words were simple, and yet more profound than I could have ever imagined her speaking.
“I can’t take much more,” I admitted through teeth tightly clenched with emotion.
“How can I help?” she asked with genuine concern, looking over her shoulder at me. I gently kissed her neck.
“Either we go to sleep, or the Beast comes out and fucks you until things feel normal again.” She giggled at my words, and I smiled, but they were honest words. Her pert little ass wiggled against my suddenly interested cock and I groaned.
“I have warned you, Eden. Are you sure this is the choice you want to make?” I admonished. I couldn’t help letting my hand move up her midsection, cupping her breast with my hand.
“Well, when you do that — yes, that — it’s hard to say no,” she groaned as my thumb ran back and forth over her nipple.
“When I do this?” I teased, grasping the tip and squeezing, pulling it away from her body slightly until she gasped deliciously.
“Mm, yes. That right there,” she sighed as I continued plucking along the sensitive peak. My other hand moved down over the swell of her hip, tugging her nightgown up until I could dip my fingers into the waistline of her panties, finding her just barely wet and oh so sensitive to my touch. Her legs shifted, granting me more space as I worked the pad of my finger over the swollen bud of her clit in tight, quick circles.
“Malachi,” she sighed, arching back into me as I brought her closer and closer to orgasm.
“Just give me one. Just like this. Nothing more. Nothing less,” I coaxed, running my nose along the line of her neck. Her scent was so concentrated here, so raw and real, calling for me to push things further, to take more, to claim, to own.
Her hips lifted, rocking up and down into my touch, but I only moved with her. She wanted me to dip lower, to slide my fingers into the warmth of her pussy, but I refused.
“Please,” she whimpered, making her demands known, but I shushed her quietly.
“Just like this. Nothing more,” I reiterated. The teasing was exquisite, almost as exquisite as the feel of her wet pussy slipping beneath my fingertips. Christ, how I wanted to give in, to give her exactly what she asked for and so much more. She whined and keened as I slowly, meticulously, brought her right to the brink of orgasm.
