Page 61 of Ryder
“You stopped him before he… he didn’t… finish.”
He nodded, sighing heavily. “Thank fuck for that. Doc will probably still want to test you for… uh… you know… infections.” He looked away then.“Like he did with me.”
My god. I did that to him. I felt the tears coursing down my cheeks.
“I’m so sorry. What I did was unforgivable. You should hate me. Why don’t you hate me? Why aren’t you glad this happened to me?”
He was angry again. His fist clenched on that makeshift flannel, and he glared at me.
“Who the fuck would be glad someone was raped? That’s fucked up. Look, we’ll run out of hot water if we don’t get on with this. Are you ready?”
I took a deep breath and nodded, letting him help me up onto shaky legs, from the hard surface I’d been sitting on, then he took hold of the sheet.
“You sure?”
I nodded again, letting go of the sheet I’d been clutching in a death grip ever since my fingers had started to work again. He took a breath, and eased the fabric away from me, dropping it to the floor, and then his eyes trailed over me, anger crossing his face again, before he returned his gaze to mine, and tried to smile.
“Okay… we’re going to step into the shower now, okay?” He helped me step over the edge of the shower cubicle, and then the water started to rain down on me, and I winced, as the many cuts started to burn again.
“Too hot?” He asked, his dark hair already plastered down against his head, even though he was now standing out of the water again. There really wasn’t room for us both to be under the shower at the same time. I shook my head, and he lifted the flannel, soaking it under the water.
“Ready?”
I nodded again, and then closed my eyes, waiting for the first swipe of the towel against my skin.
“Are you sure you’re not able? I feel like I’m just adding to this hell for you.” His voice was raised a little, so I’d hear it over the water.
“Please. I trust you.” And I did. I really did. As he carefully used the towel to mop at the many cuts on my skin, I tried to hide every wince, and flinch of pain, but I knew he caught every one of them.
By the time he added a little soap to the cloth, he looked like he wanted to cry, but I was already there. The tears rolled down my cheeks, mingling with the flowing water, but I knew he could see my chest heaving, as I tried to fight back the sobs.
He was gentle as he soaped and rinsed my arms, back, chest, and stomach. There was nothing sexual about the way he touched me. It was tentative. Careful.Almost clinical. He carefully tilted my head back, and gave my neck and throat thesame attention, and then all that was left was my legs and…and the area that needed cleansing the most.
He crouched, and stared up at me, his eyes blinking against the water as it rained down on him.
“Think you can manage the rest?” He asked, holding up the cloth. I was already holding onto his shoulders, so that I could stay upright, so I shook my head, and watched his face fall. He didn’t want to touch me. Why would he? I was tainted by that bastard’s filthy body, and he knew it. I was disgusting to him, and if not for that, then for what I forced him into.
He just kept staring up at me, his clothes drenched and sticking to him, water dripping down his face, his eyes dark and solemn.
“Jesus… can you balance, if you rest this foot on my knee?” He asked finally, guiding me to move one foot onto him, opening myself up to him. He stared at my poor battered pussy for a moment, blinking rapidly, as my heart thudded heavily with dread.
“Tell me if this is too much, Tori. I’m only doing this because you can’t, okay?”
I nodded; my eyes firmly fixed on his. He let out a heavy breath, and reached up with the sodden cloth, brushing it over my inner thighs first, down my legs, then he came back up, and started at my abdomen and worked down.
Finally all that was left was my pussy; the area Dom had forced his way into. It was tender down there. Sore.I hadn’t been wet for him, of course I hadn’t. And he hadn’t bothered trying to add any lubrication, because he enjoyed the sensation of forcing his way in dry. He’d told me that many times, even though it risked hurting him too.
“Look at me, Tori.” Ryder had stopped touching me, and was watching me closely.
“Don’t think about it. Or him. I’m just your guy, helping you bathe before bed, okay? It’s all safe and normal.”
My guy… he called himself my guy. Was it just to try and relax me? Strangely, it helped to focus me once more on him, rather than the horror of my memories. I nodded, my hands tightening on his shoulders, as he gently bathed my pussy with the cloth in soft swipes.
“Is that… is that enough?” He asked. It wasn’t, not really. It never would be. But it helped. When I could bathe myself, I’d clean every fucking millimetre of myself. I’d scrub my skin until it glowed red.
Ryder set the cloth aside, and eased my foot back down.
“Shall we get you dry now?” I nodded, so he helped me back out of the shower, cutting off the water, and then he wrapped a huge towel around me, sitting me on the toilet lid again.
