Chapter 9
NINE
Ifloat in a hazy warmth, disconnected from my body yet somehow more present in it than I've ever been. Everything feels distant and immediate at once—the ache between my legs, the pleasant burn across my ass, the cooling wetness on my chest. My mind drifts, untethered from thoughts or worries.
"Tess." Colt's voice reaches me as if through water. "Come back to me, pretty thing."
His hand strokes my hair, gentle in a way that contrasts sharply with his earlier roughness. I blink slowly, the room gradually coming into focus. Colt's face hovers above mine, his expression softer than I've seen it before.
"There you are," he murmurs, satisfaction warming his tone. "How do you feel?"
I try to speak, but my throat feels raw. I swallow and try again. "Floaty," I manage. "Good."
He smiles—a real smile, not the dangerous smirk I've become familiar with. "You're in subspace. It'll fade slowly." His thumb traces my cheekbone. "Let me take care of you now."
I nod, unable to form more words. My body feels heavy, boneless, like I might melt into the mattress.
Colt disappears briefly from my field of vision. I hear water running somewhere nearby. When he returns, he's holding a bottle of water with a straw.
"Drink," he commands, though his voice is gentle. "You need to hydrate."
He holds the bottle for me, supporting my head as I sip the cool water. It soothes my throat, parched from screaming. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was until the first drop touches my tongue. I drink greedily until the bottle is half empty.
"Easy," he says. "Not too fast. There's plenty more."
He sets the bottle aside and disappears again. I hear more water running, louder this time. The sound is soothing, hypnotic. I close my eyes, drifting again.
Strong arms slide beneath me, lifting me effortlessly. I open my eyes to find myself cradled against Colt's chest, my head tucked under his chin. He's carrying me somewhere…the bathroom, I realize as steam billows around us.
The ensuite is spacious, dominated by a large freestanding tub filled with steaming water. Colt lowers me gently into it, and I sigh as the warmth envelops my aching muscles.
"Too hot?" he asks, watching my face carefully.
I shake my head. "Perfect."
To my surprise, he begins undressing, methodically removing each piece of clothing until he stands naked before me. In my floaty state, I admire him openly. Broad shoulders, muscled chest dusted with dark blond hair, narrow hips, and strong thighs. His cock, now soft, but still impressive.
He steps into the tub behind me, his legs bracketing mine as he pulls me back against his chest. The feeling of his skin against mine is different now, not sexual but comforting.
"Let me wash you," he says, reaching for a bottle of body wash.
He pours some into his palm, working it into a lather before his hands begin moving across my skin. He's thorough but gentle, washing away the sweat and fluids from our encounter. His fingers trace the curve of my breasts without lingering, cleaning rather than arousing.
"You were perfect tonight," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. "So responsive. So honest."
I lean back against him, letting his words wash over me like the water. "I've never felt like that before."
"Like what?" His hands continue their gentle ministrations, moving down to my stomach.
"Like...myself," I admit. "Like I didn't have to hide anything."
His arms tighten around me briefly. "That's what this is about, Tess. Being seen. All the way through."
My own words from my profile echo back to me, and I feel a surge of emotion that catches me off guard. Tears prick at my eyes, though I'm not sad. Quite the opposite.
Colt seems to sense the shift. "It can be overwhelming," he says quietly. "The drop after subspace. Let yourself feel it."
He reaches for a bottle of shampoo, pouring some into his palm. "Lean forward a bit."
I comply, and his fingers begin working through my hair, massaging my scalp with firm, circular motions. It feels so good I nearly moan.
"Close your eyes," he instructs as he reaches for the detachable showerhead. Warm water cascades over my head as he rinses the shampoo away, one hand shielding my face from the spray.
He follows with conditioner, working it through the ends of my hair with surprising gentleness. As he rinses it out, I feel myself settling deeper into my body, the floating sensation gradually receding.
"Better?" he asks as I straighten up, leaning back against him again.
"Mmm." I nod, words still feeling slightly beyond my reach.
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, his arms wrapped around me, my head resting on his shoulder. The water stays perfectly warm, and I realize the tub must have some kind of heating element.
Eventually, Colt shifts behind me. "Water's getting cool. Let's get you dried off."
He helps me stand, steadying me when my legs wobble. Stepping out of the tub, he wraps me in the largest, fluffiest towel I've ever felt. He dries me with the same care he washed me, patting my skin gently rather than rubbing.
"Arms up," he says, and when I comply, he slips a plush robe around me. It's enormous, clearly meant for someone his size, but it feels like being wrapped in a cloud.
He dries himself quickly, efficiently, then pulls on a pair of black boxer briefs. "Wait here," he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead before disappearing into the bedroom.
I stand in the steamy bathroom, surrounded by the scent of expensive soap and shampoo, feeling more cared for than I have in... maybe ever. The robe swallows me; the sleeves hanging past my fingertips, but I've never felt more comfortable.
Colt returns with another bottle of water and a small plate of food with cheese, crackers, some grapes, and chocolate. "You need to eat something," he says, leading me to a small seating area I hadn't noticed before.
He sits on the couch and pulls me down beside him, arranging me so I'm practically in his lap. "Drink first," he says, uncapping the water bottle.
I take it obediently, sipping more slowly this time. My head feels clearer now, though a pleasant heaviness still lingers in my limbs.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, studying my face.
"Good," I say, and it's true. "Really good. A little sore, but in the best way."
He smiles, satisfaction evident in his expression. "Eat something."
He feeds me pieces of cheese and chocolate, alternating between savory and sweet. I should feel ridiculous being hand-fed like this, but instead it feels... right. Like this is exactly what I need.
"I can't believe I almost didn't sign up for Desire," I murmur after swallowing a piece of chocolate.
Colt's eyes find mine, something unreadable flickering in their depths. "What made you do it?"
I consider the question, memories of that night flooding back. "I was tired of pretending," I admit. "Tired of hiding what I really want."
His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing across my lower lip. "And what do you really want, Tess?"
"This," I say simply. "You. What we just did. What we might do next."
Something shifts in his expression, a softening around the eyes, a slight curve of his lips. "Good," he says quietly. "Because I'm not nearly done with you yet."
He feeds me another piece of chocolate, and I let the sweetness melt on my tongue. The weight of his arm around me, the gentle way he ensures I eat and drink, the careful attention to my needs. It all feels like an extension of the control he exercised earlier, just in a different form.
"Is this part of it?" I ask. "The aftercare?"
He nods. "It's as important as everything else. Maybe more so." His fingers trail through my damp hair. "Dropping you off without this would be irresponsible."
"Dropping?"
"Sub-drop," he explains. "After the high of subspace, some people crash. Feel sad, empty, confused. Proper aftercare helps prevent that."
I lean into his touch, understanding dawning. "So this is still part of the...scene?"
"No," he says firmly. "This is just me taking care of what's mine."
The possessiveness in his voice sends a different kind of warmth through me, not the sharp heat of arousal but something deeper, more fundamental. A sense of belonging I've never felt before.
"Thank you," I whisper, suddenly overwhelmed by gratitude. "For all of this."
His arms tighten around me. "Thank you for trusting me with your surrender." His voice is low, sincere. "It's not something I take lightly."
I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. My body aches pleasantly, marked by his hands, his words, his come. I should feel used, maybe even degraded—and I do, but in the most perfect way possible.
For the first time in my life, I feel completely seen and completely accepted. The parts of me I've always hidden—the desires I've been ashamed of, the needs I've denied—are exactly what Colt wants. What he treasures.
As I drift in his arms, warm and safe and thoroughly claimed, I know with absolute certainty that I made the right choice that night, facing my fears and pressing "submit" on that app.