CHAPTER NINE #3
I openly watched him undress because I couldn’t help it.
He was so fucking hot, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
His shoulders were broad, his stomach flat, two V-lines ran diagonally from the hips down toward his groin.
A thin line of auburn hair trailed down from his navel, and I couldn’t help looking at his dick.
He had such a nice dick. Thick and long, and at the moment, half hard.
He caught me looking and raised an eyebrow. “Are you objectifying me right now?”
My cheeks warmed. “My ribs are injured. I’m not blind.”
He smiled and went into the bathroom. He reached into the shower and turned on the water, testing the temperature with his hand.
Once it was warm, he returned to me and helped me hobble into the bathroom.
He stepped in and then helped me in after him.
The shower was small enough that we were immediately close, chest to chest, the water streaming down between us.
Declan adjusted the showerhead so the spray wasn’t hitting my bruised left side directly.
The heat felt incredible on my battered body.
I closed my eyes and let it run over my shoulders and down my back, loosening clenched muscles.
The relief only lasted a second. When I shifted my weight, a sharp pain flared through my ribs, and I sucked in a careful breath, forcing myself to stay still.
He squeezed some shampoo into his hand and worked it into my hair.
His fingers moved gently over my scalp, avoiding the stitches above my temple.
I tipped my head back and gave in to the moment, the warm water rinsing the lather down my neck and shoulders.
The room tilted for a second, and I tightened my grip on his arm until it passed.
Nobody had washed my hair since I was a kid.
His fingertips against my scalp and the warmth of the water and the closeness of him felt painfully intimate.
“Feel good?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Let me know if I’m hurting you,” he said huskily.
“You’re not hurting me.”
He rinsed my hair and then reached for the body soap. He worked up a lather between his hands and started at my shoulders, his palms sliding across my skin, broad strokes down my arms, across my back. He was gentle but thorough, washing away the accident and the hospital.
When his hands moved to my chest, I opened my eyes.
He was watching what he was doing, his face close to mine, water running down his jaw.
His fingers traced carefully around the edge of the bruising on my ribs, barely touching, and then moved lower across my stomach.
Lower. Lower. The touch shifted. It was still gentle, still caring, but something underneath it had changed.
His hands slowed down. His breathing was different.
He met my gaze, his eyes almost a golden brown in the light of the bathroom. I couldn’t seem to help myself, and I leaned in and kissed him. His hand came to rest on my right hip, and he gently pulled me closer. I could feel him getting hard against my thigh, and there was no hiding I was hard too.
When the kiss ended, he looked at me for a long moment, water streaming down his face.
Then he sank to his knees on the shower floor.
He soaped his hands again and washed my feet, my calves, working his way slowly back up.
My heart began to race when his hands moved between my thighs.
He cupped my balls, soapy fingers sliding behind them and further, and I braced one hand against the shower wall because my legs were not as reliable as they’d been ten minutes ago.
My knees felt weak, a faint tremor running through them, and I leaned harder into the wall to stay upright.
He rinsed me clean with the dangling, detachable showerhead, the warm water streaming between my legs. He looked up at me from his knees, his eyes dark with arousal. His dick was hard, as was mine, and I wanted his mouth on me. But he was just watching me, not making any sort of move.
“You know, I wouldn’t mind a little funny business,” I said sheepishly. “If you’re gentle.”
His eyes flickered. “You sure?”
“It might help me sleep.” I was rationalizing. Messing around at all was probably a bad idea, but I wanted it anyway.
“Well, if it’s for a good cause.” He laughed softly. “How can I say no?”
I hissed when he gently wrapped one hand around the base of my cock and took me into his mouth.
At the feel of his eager mouth on my cock, I made a needy sound that bounced off the tile walls.
He went slow. So slow it was almost unbearable.
His mouth was hot, and his suction so perfect it made my whole body tighten.
He wasn’t trying to get me off fast. He was savoring it.
Taking his time with me the way he’d taken his time washing my hair and soaping my back.
My hand went to his head, my fingers threading through his wet hair. I didn’t push or guide. I just held on. The pleasure was building slowly, a deep warmth that started low and spread upward, different from the first time he’d touched me. That had been fire and urgency. This was something else.
“Feels good.” My voice was hoarse.
His response was to suck harder, and I groaned, my fingers tightening in his hair.
He moaned around me, and the vibration shot straight to my core, my hips tilting forward instinctively, thrusting deeper into that tight, wet heat.
My ribs screamed at the movement, a sharp, blinding pain that made me gasp, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
His hand moved to my ass, gripping the muscle, holding me steady while his mouth worked me.
One soapy finger slid between my ass cheeks, over my hole, and I groaned again.
He didn’t push inside; he just teased and tortured me, making me want more and more.
I was close. Too fast, maybe, but my body didn’t have the stamina for anything slower.
The pressure was building at the base of my spine and radiating outward, and I was shaking, not from cold or pain but from the sheer overwhelming pleasure.
I wanted him to fuck me but knew that was not going to happen.
Even if we’d had lube and a condom, my body was too fragile for full-on sex.
After the trauma I’d been through, the sensation of being taken care of by Declan was mind-blowing.
He was solely focused on me, almost worshipping my body.
The heat of his mouth, the coolness of the water, the slick slide of his tongue, I tipped my head back, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The last twenty-four hours had been nothing but pain; this moment with Declan was healing me in a way no hospital ever could.
“I’m gonna, oh God, I’m gonna—” I tried to warn him, but he didn’t pull back.
He took me deeper, his hand tightening on my ass, that finger pressing my hole harder.
I came with a loud groan, my ribs burning and my muscles trembling.
But the pain was worth it. I poured release down his tight throat, and ecstasy washed over me, dulling the agony.
For a second. Then the pain came roaring back, sharp and insistent, and I sagged against the tile with a shaky breath.
He slipped his mouth from my cock and stayed where he was, head down, the water drumming on his back and shoulders.
I blinked slowly, suddenly exhausted, the adrenaline bleeding out of me just as fast as it had come.
With a grunt, he took care of himself. Just a few quick strokes, and he came, spurting on the shower floor, his pearly cum swirling down the drain.
After a few moments, he looked up, a faint, almost sheepish smile on his face, water clinging to his lashes. “You okay?”
“I need to get to the bed,” I admitted. “I’m a little dizzy.”
“Come here.” He stood quickly, supporting me against his body.
“Thank you,” I mumbled. “I feel way more relaxed.”
“That was the idea.”
He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, guiding me out.
He reached for a towel and gently dried me off, mindful of my injuries, kissing my damp skin every now and then.
He helped me into clean briefs and an oversized T-shirt from the closet.
He led me to the bed, then eased me down onto the mattress.
I winced when my ribs protested the movement, but I practically melted into the bed. I was so tired.
He looked relaxed but a little guilty as he pulled the soft comforter over me. “I probably should have had more control. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I wanted it.” I smiled weakly. “I’d never have been able to sleep with a boner.”
He laughed. “I guess. Well, sleep now. I’m going to go get groceries. When you wake up, I’ll have dinner ready.”
“You don’t have to do all this.”
“I like doing it.” He leaned down, kissed me softly. Then he dressed quickly and left the room. I heard the front door opening and closing, and then the sound of his SUV starting up.
I lay in bed, clean and warm. The pain pill was kicking in, and I watched the late-afternoon light bounce off the walls as it came through the window.
I felt content, which was unusual for me.
I knew it was because of Declan. Being taken care of by him felt okay because I could tell he didn’t want anything from me.
He simply wanted to help. I’d been handling things on my own for so long, I’d forgotten what it felt like to let someone help.
But I didn’t want to get too used to having Declan around. Everything was still very new with us. It could fizzle out in a week, for all I knew. I wouldn’t overthink things. I’d enjoy it while it lasted.