Chapter Twenty #2
If you can die by having too many orgasms, then Theo is trying to murder me.
After the knife, he gets me off with his tongue without even touching me with his hands.
Then he fucks me, making me come twice before he shoots his load.
While it’s dripping out of me, he walks away, leaving me lying there, tied up, blindfolded, gagged, and exhausted, for almost half an hour while he gets a snack and talks to James.
He returns whistling, announces he’s refueled, and wastes no time returning to his task of coaxing out as many orgasms as he can. I pass out after the eighth.
I wake up on my side, a heavy sort of satisfaction draped over my muscles. I blink, and it’s a few seconds before I realize the blindfold has been removed, along with the underwear gag. I groan, rubbing my eyes as I roll onto my back.
“There you are, little reaper.” The bed moves as if someone next to me has climbed off.
I take a few long, aching breaths, then the bed dips again.
I sigh when Theo’s oil and coffee smell reaches me.
“I need you to open your eyes for me. Take these.” His hand brushes over my face with the gentlest touch, then lingers on the back of my neck, supporting me as I gather the energy to follow his command.
My eyes finally open to find him sitting on the edge of the bed in front of me. He’s holding out two little pills, which he drops into my hands when I open a palm. He gives me a glass of water next, and I swallow the pills before chugging all the water.
Theo smiles. “Good girl.”
Something curls in my chest at the two words. “What time is it?” I ask. My voice is hoarse from the moans, cries, and screams he coaxed out of me.
“Three in the morning.” He tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “I iced your wrists and ankles for a bit after you passed out. I’d offer a massage and heating pad now, but you really need more sleep. So we can do that later.”
I frown. A grogginess in my mind contorts his words, making it much harder to interpret them and come up with a response. He must realize this because he moves to my side and pulls me into him, strong, tattooed arms holding me close. “Go back to sleep, little reaper.”
So I do.
I’m still wrapped in his embrace when I wake up next.
“Good morning.”
His voice is so tender that my cheeks warm.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Mmm,” I roll out of his hold and stretch, muscles burning in the best way. “What time is it?”
“Seven. Do you have an appointment this morning?”
I groan. “At nine. I should leave for the office soon.” I don’t want to.
I’d rather lie in this bed that has no right being as comfortable as it is.
But I can’t cancel on clients who need me just because I’m tired from a night of countless orgasms after I finally soothed the fire under my skin by slitting a man’s throat.
“I’ll take you.” Theo leans forward and presses our lips together, his fingers moving to the back of my neck and threading through my hair.
My body twists closer to him, and my mouth opens, inviting him into a deeper kiss.
He obliges, and soon my pussy is aching for him again.
Instead of giving me what my body craves, Theo pulls back.
“You need to shower. You’re covered in blood, sweat, and cum. ”
Fuck, I forgot that I never showered after the events of last night. I also didn’t use the restroom after sex. I better not get a fucking UTI.
Grudgingly, I sit up and climb off his bed. My muscles are tight and sore, particularly between my legs. I look around for my clothes, then remember he cut them off.
“Use my shower. James is still here.”
“I need my stuff.”
He stands, stretching his arms over his head. My eyes fall to his bare chest. I was blindfolded for most of the night and never got a good look at him. A bruise covers his right side, and his arms and chest are nearly covered in tattoos.
“I’ll get it,” he says, snapping my eyes back to his face. He smirks, having caught me checking him out. “Go get in the shower. I’ll bring everything to you.”
I nod and head to the bathroom. It’s bigger than I expected, with two sinks and a separate shower and bathtub.
It’s also clean, only half the counter filled with toiletries organized by size.
I turn on the shower and look in the mirror, gasping at the sight.
A bruise covers my cheekbone, and it won’t be long before it’s a black eye.
There's a cut in the middle of my right brow and my bottom lip, which is red and inflamed from kissing. More injuries decorate my body, both from Theo and the fights. My wrists and ankles are red, though not as bad as I would’ve expected, thanks to Theo’s soft, silky restraints.
There are, however, marks from his teeth on my tits and my inner thighs and a hickey on my neck.
Plus the bruises from him choking me still circle my throat.
I’ll have to apply liberal amounts of makeup so my clients don't think I got attacked by a super horny mugger.
The shower is filled with steam when I step inside.
Hot water pelts my back, and I sigh in relief.
Soon, the bathroom door opens, and Theo walks in, his arms filled with bottles.
My first instinct as he walks to the shower is to tell him to leave everything on the counter and get out, but there’s no reason.
He’s seen every inch of my body now and been inside me more times than I remember.
“I wasn’t sure what all you needed, so I just got everything.”
“Thanks.” I push open the shower door, plucking the bottles from his arm and setting them on the shower bench next to Theo’s soaps. While my back is turned, I hear the shower door shut. A second later, thick arms wrap around me and pull me back against his chest.
“I have to shower,” I say.
“I’m not stopping you.”
“You have to let me go.”
Theo nuzzles his head into my neck, softly kissing my skin. Unease furls in my gut. I could justify last night as a heated night of passion driven by high adrenaline and a murder-fueled haze. It was frantic and dirty and primitive. I wasn’t thinking.
But now, in the light of morning with a clearer mind, guilt and logic can no longer be ignored. Showering with him, allowing him to gently kiss me, is a whole different level of intimacy.
“Theo, I’m serious, I don’t have time for this. I need to get ready.”
He lets me go but doesn’t leave. Instead, he examines the bottles and picks up the shampoo. I turn, watching as he uncaps it and says, “Let me help you.”
I stop him, taking the shampoo. “I can clean myself.”
“I know, but it’ll be so much more fun if I do it.”
I dodge his attempt to grab me. “I don’t want you to. Now get out so I can clean all this shit off.”
He frowns, noticing my scowl. Finally, he turns and exits the shower without another word. A moment later, the bathroom door shuts.
Despite the hot water raining down, I suddenly feel cold.