Page 52 of Blood Day
What’s he doing? Is he drowning me now?
I almost fought back, almost flailed my arms, but he lifted me to where my chin was above the water, allowing my lips to part and inhale air.
It was then that I realized my back was balancing on the thigh of his leg with the foot on the ground. He was keeping me safe while washing my hair.
Keeping me alive.
Healing me.
Grooming me.
I didn’t understand any of this or why he felt the need to be kind.
But I refused to question him.
Lily, I marveled again.He calls me Lily.
A pretty name, so short and feminine. I liked the way it sounded on his lips, too.
He combed his fingers through my hair again, this time beneath the water, then righted me once more and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Good girl,” he whispered, the words sending a shiver through my soul.
I’d pleased him.
I didn’t really know how I’d done it, but I loved that I’d done something right.
More minty essence flooded my senses as a sponge appeared against my arm. Then he began to create suds that he worked into my skin. I watched from the corner of my eye, hypnotized by his movements.
They went all the way down to my fingertips, back up to my neck, and disappeared from view as he went under my hair to stroke my nape.
My back was next, the touch scattering goose bumps across my skin despite me being mostly submerged in the water.
I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensations.
Until the water flickered on beside us to release more liquid into the bath. I jolted, my gaze landing on the flowing faucet.
“It’s going to help cycle some of the suds from the tub,” he explained against my ear as he started on my opposite arm.
I swallowed, my nipples beading both from his touch and from his mouth being so close to my neck. He was awakening things inside me that I couldn’t define. It was overwhelming and exciting and terrifying all at the same time.
His lips brushed my throat as the sponge left my arm for my abdomen. “Straighten your legs,” he told me.
I did.
“Spread your thighs,” he added in a low tone, his lips brushing my ear.
My heart skipped a beat, but I complied.
“Good girl,” he said again, nuzzling my throat as the sponge ventured downward beneath the water.
He focused on my upper leg first, massaging my hip bone before skating along the top of my thigh.
Then he went inward, drawing the sponge upward to my intimate flesh.
I jolted as he touched my clit, pleasure zinging through my veins and forcing a gasp from my mouth.
“Sensitive?” he hummed against my ear.
“Yes,” I admitted.
