Page 63 of Cinderella and the Daddy
"Come on," I say, tugging him toward the door. "Let me clean those up."
He steps away and picks up his discarded t-shirt. I put it on without a word while he pulls on his shorts.
When we step out of the gym, I spot two guards. They, of course, pretend they don’t see us. Luka leads us to his room and closes the door behind us.
In his bathroom, I make him sit on the edge of the tub while I tend to his knuckles with antiseptic and bandages. The cuts aren't deep, but they're angry and swollen. He watches me while I work.
"You're different," he says suddenly.
My hands still on the bandage that I'm wrapping around his left hand. "Different how?"
"I don't know. Just... different."
Panic flickers in my chest. Can he tell? Is it obvious somehow? I've been so careful, but my body has been changing in small ways. My breasts are fuller and more sensitive. My waist is stillthe same, but there's a softness to my stomach that wasn't there before.
"Different bad or different good?" I try to keep my voice light.
"Different beautiful."
The words hit me unexpectedly, making my throat tight with emotion. I finish with his bandages and step back, but he catches my wrist before I can move too far away.
"Cindy."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For coming back."
"Thank you for letting me go."
We look at each other for a long moment, both of us aware that something fundamental has shifted between us. The dynamic has changed from captor and prisoner to something else entirely. Something that feels suspiciously like a choice made by both of us.
"I should check on Leo," I say finally.
"He's still sleeping. It's early."
"Then I should shower."
The corner of his mouth quirks up. "I like the way you smell. You smell like mine."
“I smell like you.” I grin. “You’re all sweaty. You should shower too. And then maybe we can get a couple hours of sleep.”
Without a word, he stands and goes to the walk-in shower. He sets the water temp on the digital thermostat and takes off his shorts. He disappears into the steam.
I pull off his shirt and catch sight of myself in the bathroom mirror. My reflection stops me cold. There's something different about my face. A fullness that wasn't there before. When I turn to the side, I can see the barely-there curve of my stomach that definitely wasn't there a month ago.
He doesn’t know. I’ll tell him.
Just not now.
I step into the shower behind him. He turns and pulls me into his arms.
The hot water cascades over both of us. I groan with sheer pleasure. I don’t know if I could ever go back to a basic shower. There's a reverence in his touch that makes my heart ache. He's washing my hair with careful fingers, massaging my scalp in a way that's almost meditative.
This isn't the Luka who just fucked me against a table in his gym. This is someone else entirely—someone tender and careful and so gentle it makes me want to cry.
"You're being awfully sweet," I murmur, tipping my head back as he rinses the shampoo from my hair.
"Is that a problem?"
