Chapter Eight #5
She’d be sore, maybe a little grumpy, but at least he wasn’t calling the Doc for help.
Using one of the T-shirt rags to clean himself up enough to tug his sweatpants into place, he strode into the bathroom and set the bath running. A quick rummage through the cabinet above the sink scored him three ibuprofen and some aloe vera gel which he placed on the counter for after her bath.
Filling the glass by the sink, he took it and the pills back into the bedroom.
To disturb or not to disturb, that was the question. The sooner she took the meds, the quicker they’d start working. However, if she woke up tired and cranky, in discomfort, any chance he had at nurturing the shifted aspects of their relationship were going to die pretty fast.
After a minute of silent deliberation, Reaux perched on the edge of the bed beside her, setting everything down on the bedside cabinet within reach, and gently gathered her into a sitting position, using his shoulder to support her head.
“Bennie, give me some sign of life. No point relieving the pain if you’ve up and died on me. ”
The tiniest, most pathetic moan was her reply.
“Yeah, I know. Feels strange, being high on hormones after getting mowed down by a Zamboni.” He patted her cheek gently, trying to rouse her just enough to get the pills and some water down her throat without choking her. “You did very well, beignet. I’m so proud of you.”
A little frown furrowed her brow.
“Can you be brave for a while longer? I need your attention for just a moment.”
Violet made a quiet sound of distress, but there was movement beneath her eyelids before they cracked open to reveal dark, glazed eyes. They struggled to focus on him, heavy with tiredness.
“There’s my beautiful girl,” he crooned softly, stroking his thumb along her jaw. “Do you think you can swallow, Violet? Properly, without aspirating water?”
“W-Water,” she croaked.
She’d screamed herself hoarse, he remembered. A violent expulsion of sound that reflected more than just the physical pain he’d given her; it was the release of a different kind of agony originating from a recessed part of her heart.
He sat her up straighter, pleased when she maintained balance on her own. Picking up the pills in a cone of his fingertips, he held them in front of her mouth. “Open, Bennie. It’s only ibuprofen to take the edge off the discomfort.”
It seemed she was still capable of making smart choices; she opened her mouth without argument, allowing him to set the pills on her tongue. If she felt tempted to bite him, she resisted the urge, and simply gulped the meds down along with most of the water when he pressed the glass to her lips.
Reaux kissed her temple, then gathered her securely in his arms and rose, carrying her to the bathroom.
Steam swirled in the air as he set her carefully on her feet, curling his arm around her waist as he bent to check the water temperature.
Heat stung his fingers before settling into soothing warmth.
He switched the taps off. “Remember the time I spanked your ass raw for being rude to Francois?”
She chuffed a half-laugh and asked in a whisper, “Which time?”
“I believe you called him a deranged pervert and proceeded to tell him he deserved to have both his hands and his dick cut off for daring to look at you in a swimsuit.”
A small, wicked smile fluttered briefly over her lips. “I stand by it.”
“Yes, well, he’s not a eunuch yet. Do you recall the bath you took after the spanking?”
Oh, that stirred some of her hazy brain awake, Reaux thought. The awareness and consequent flicker of horror in her eyes were confirmation that she did indeed recall it, very well. She stepped back, but her knees buckled.
“Easy, Bennie.” He scooped her up again and held her over the gently steaming water. “We’ve been here before, you know how it goes. It’s going to sting like a bitch, then your muscles are going to sigh in relief. Just lay back and let the water get to work; I’ve got the rest under control.”
She clutched his forearm as he lowered her into the water. Her feet slipped in first, jerking as the heat bit into her skin, followed her calves. A sharp hiss blew between her clenched teeth when her sensitized flesh touched the surface, then she simply moaned and kneaded his arm like a cat.
Reaux settled her back, making sure she didn’t slip all the way under.
Her eyes were closed again, and there wasn’t a single line of tension on her face.
She was simply stunning, a visual representation of a strong, powerful woman who’d surrendered to a different kind of pleasure and been decimated by it.
He didn’t see weakness, because there was none.
She’d shown her true colors—a core of raw, vulnerable submission which paired so well with the qualities she possessed as a Domme.
It was those qualities he suspected she was using to quell any lingering emotions from the scene. He’d rather coax them out of her now than find her huddled in the closet at three a.m., crying her heart out and trying to keep the sobs from being heard.
Lathering a cloth in shower gel that smelled like tea tree and chamomile, he began washing her exhausted body, starting with her neck.
“I want to say how honored I am that you trusted me to do this with you. Rape scenes are difficult even between partners who know each other implicitly; we lost some of that knowledge along the way, but it means a great deal that you have that faith in me.”
Her head lolled to the side, giving him access to her shoulder. “Mmm.”
“We need to talk about how it made you feel.”
“Not now.”
Unfortunately, it had to be now. She was soft, relaxed, soothed by the water and his touch. By the time he pulled the plug, she’d be ready to sleep if she wasn’t already in dreamland, and when she woke… those surefire defenses she relied on would be standing firm, determined to keep him out.
“Did I scare you, beignet?” he asked, running the cloth down her arm to her hand and cleaning her fingers, one by one.
“No.”
“I do not lie to you, Violet; extend me the same courtesy if you please.” His tone sharpened, then gentled again. “Were you scared when you ran, when I was searching for you?”
The lie appeared to stick in her sore throat, the defiant no lodged there like a thorn. She swallowed hard. “I wasn’t scared. Perhaps it was… unsettling to be hunted like a damn deer, but there was no real fear.”
“We never explored consensual nonconsent scenes in the past. I’ve been rough with you before, but taking away your consent even with your permission is not something we ever discussed.
” Setting her hand back in the water, he paid special attention to her upper chest and breasts. “Were you aroused when you ran?”
She opened her eyes long enough to sear him with a scathing look. “I’d been riding your cock not five minutes before, Reaux. Of course I was aroused.”
“Ah, let me rephrase that, then. Did the idea of being chased, caught, and fucked make that glorious cunt want to orgasm or hide in a dark corner?”
“Crude,” she muttered.
“It’s a flaw. Answer the question.”
“You are relentless. I wanted to orgasm, okay? The prospect of it was edgy and oddly appealing. We think we’re apex predators because we have weapons; there are dozens of animals and reptiles who have natural attack and defense mechanisms.” She moaned when he cupped her breast with the cloth.
“Becoming prey, having an opportunity to fight back, was exhilarating to some fucked up piece of my mind.”
“Yes, I noticed how engaged you were when trying to gouge out my heart with your bare hands.” He lifted his other hand to trace the bloodied slices marring his chest, missing his prized tattoo by a scarce inch.
“Taking my cock in your ass would’ve been the least of your worries if you’d damaged the violets, beignet. ”
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “The tattoo means that much to you?”
“Indeed. Each flower represents a year of my life with you, time and memories I cherish. Time I will never regret spending with you. It is…” He stroked her nipple thoughtfully as he tried to gather the right words to express just what the ink meant.
“Every morning when I woke without you, showered without you, I would stand and look at it in the mirror. Feel my heart beat beneath it without passion. Feel it dying day by day. The ink was not a replacement for you; it kept you close to me.”
When she didn’t reply, Reaux lifted his gaze to her face.
Ah, here was the crack in her composure.
Damp eyes, trembling bottom lip.
“Does this upset you, to know what I’ve been trying to tell you along?
” The cloth splashed in the water as he grasped her face firmly in his hands.
“I will forever take responsibility for what happened to us, Violet. I will strip myself bare to make reparations. This,” he said quietly, tapping his fingers over the tattoo, “means everything to me. You mean so much more.”
A tear slid down her cheek, wiped away with a caress of his thumb. “I honestly believed hating you would solve everything. It was supposed to erase you from my life, kill off the memories and love.”
“But I am immortal, yes?” He kissed a tear away, tasting yet another of those rarities.
“An immortal asshole,” she replied, laughing through a sob.
Before he realized what he was doing, he kissed her. Soft at first, tentative and sweet. Familiarizing himself with the shape of her mouth again, drinking in her moan. It was a new version of heaven, one where conflict and turmoil didn’t exist.
Her arms lifted from the water, her hands sliding into his hair and holding on. It was she who deepened the kiss without urgency, slowly dragging them both into old, welcome territory.
Before they sank too deep, Reaux broke away with a quiet brush of lips over the corner of her mouth. “Kiss me like that again when we make love, Bennie.”
“Why not now?”