28. After Care
Chapter twenty-eight
After Care
(Danica)
When his breathing finally returns to its usual rhythm, Alessio and I help Dante to his feet.
Despite the discarded blindfold, my darling sub’s eyes are still firmly closed, shutting out the world.
“Will you manage?” the naked Joker asks as I shove my shoulder under my exhausted husband’s arm to keep him from falling back down.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. You kids have fun. I think the big boy needs some cuddles.” I smile, caressing Dante’s cheek.
He just grunts, “I’m fine,” without looking up, convincing nobody.
Alessio tsk-tsks, shaking his head at Dante before giving me the directions to our room. I’ll have to drag the big man upstairs. But luckily, his legs are regaining some of their stability, it seems; he’s holding his own weight now.
“I think I’ll stay here for a bit…” Alessio casts an eye to Rani and Adira relaxing on the couch, body parts mingling like they’re being woven together.
“Please. Stay, darling,” Adira insists as Rani nods in agreement.
“We’ll manage,” I repeat, kissing Alessio deeply in parting. “Besides, it has been a long day of formalities and informalities, and all I want is to have my husband all to myself.”
“Fair enough.” Alessio reaches for Dante, kissing him sweetly. “Fai il bravo, amore mio.” It’s a bit late in the night to tell Don Fera to “be good,” if you ask me, but I think it’s sweet, nonetheless.
After parting kisses to the Dommes on the couch, we’re off, weaving through the party that has spread all over the house, guests fucking on all available surfaces, some against walls.
Part of me wishes we could’ve stayed, that I could’ve watched Alessio and the Dommes explore their needs. But honestly, my tank is running on empty too. It’s been a crazy long day.
For now, it’s aftercare time—for Dante’s sake as much as my own.
The Don in question always thinks he can take more, but his bruised and broken body says otherwise.
After much huffing and puffing up the stairs, we finally find our room among the closed doors that emanate symphonies of pleasure as other guests find the pinnacles of their pleasure.
I hardly take in any details about the room, just head straight to the en suite bathroom before letting go of Dante. The aim is to set him down gently on the toilet, but he has other ideas.
Like a monolith toppling, my darling boy collapses on the floor, seeking relief from the cold tiles or perhaps the ground itself. The dirty floor beneath his fresh cuts can’t be sanitary, but I’ll clean him up soon enough.
The tub is big, footed, Victorian—expensive like everything else in the massive bathroom that comes complete with indoor plants and walk-in his-and-hers showers.
Opening the hot water tap all the way, I let the tub fill up as I ease out of my heels. The relief is instant.
I return my attention to the man with the bruised backside lying flat on the floor, smearing the cream-colored tiles crimson with his blood. “You okay, baby?”
Dante still hasn’t said much anything other than the unconvincing “I’m fine” earlier. He hasn’t even opened his eyes. Not for long, anyway.
There is so much I want to talk to him about, but I take a step back, giving him the space he needs, stroking his hair sweetly as the tub fills.
I know he’ll come back to me. He always does.
After adding in some cold water as well, I test the temperature to make sure it’s manageable before squatting beside the 6’5” beast that no longer has any of the threatening qualities that make him the feared Don Fera. In this moment, he is just a little boy.
My beautiful Knight.
Could I love him any more than I do right now?
It’s not possible.
Bringing my face closer, I inspect the new bruises decorating his skin. Rani sure did a thorough job.
Dante’s body is a beautiful tapestry of purples and future-yellows-that-are-still-blue, little red cuts running over his back, his ass—Rani’s souvenirs.
Just thinking back to the scene instantly makes me aroused too. I still can’t believe it all happened in one day. We’ve lived so many lifetimes in these past hours.
So many firsts…
Like watching Rani at work. She’s so different from Adira, but no less attractive—that’s for sure. There’s something about the way she commanded that whip so elegantly that instantly made me want to throw my body before her, despite usually not being much into impact play.
A few smacks on my pussy with a riding crop, maybe, but that’s about as far as my enjoyment of pain goes. I much prefer receiving pleasure to pain.
And pleasure, there was plenty to be had in that room.
The free-use scene may have been for Dante, but we all got what we needed—more.
At some point, Rani ate me out while Adira sucked Dante off. At another, Alessio fucked me so hard I came multiple times, especially the time when Adira joined, taking my sensitive nipples between her teeth as the Joker reduced me to a puddle of spent lust.
So many hands, so much touching, groping, clawing…in the dimly-lit room downstairs, everything was free-use, not just my husband.
The only difference was that, unlike Dante, the rest of us could see, could touch, could move.
Poor boy. I’m sure he’ll be bleak to have missed the sight of me sandwiched between Adira and Rani, penetrated from both ends, filled to the brink. But he was busy getting fucked by Alessio, ever-exchanging partners rotating in a variety of formations, giving and taking power, sometimes sharing.
I thought things would be a bit more awkward, but Alessio had a way of making people feel at ease. His natural charm quickly disarmed the Dommes, even Rani, who rarely found a male specimen she enjoyed, according to Adira.
It all worked out so perfectly, the most amazing wedding gift.
Now it’s time for damage control.
Despite Dante’s strict health regime and regular workouts, the human body can only take so much—especially once you hit your mid-40s. And his body clearly needs a break.
But first, time to wash the various liquids from our skin. Not before I make sure his cuts are cleaned. I’ll add salve to them after.
“Upsy-daisy.” I lift from my legs as my trainer taught me, almost tumbling us both into the bath as I perch Dante on the edge of the tub. “Look at me, darling.” I tilt his chin toward me, kissing his closed eyelids.
It’s clear that it would probably be impossible, and quite dangerous, to get him into the water without his cooperation.
Dante grumbles something in syllables that don’t form words, his eyes still firmly closed.
“You’re going to have to open them peepers, Don Fera. Gotta get you into this bath.” Still holding him firmly so he doesn’t topple over into the steaming water, I gently kiss the side of Dante’s neck, whispering recently-learned Italian sweet nothings into his ear.
Finally, after what was probably a few minutes but felt like ages to my aching arms holding up the giant sub, Dante sighs and flutters his eyes open.
He quickly closes them again with a groan. The bathroom lights must be very bright for eyes that have grown used to the darkness.
“Easy does it. Whenever you’re ready,” I encourage him, hoping whenever is soon, before my arms give in and I drop him.
Dante tries again, forcing his eyes to remain open for longer this time. They fall shut a few times, adjusting, until he can keep them ajar, looking around wildly as he tries to orientate himself in the foreign surroundings.
My husband smiles weakly, looking up at me like an awkward kid. “Hey…”
“Hey, you.” I kiss his nose.
Dante blushes. “That was, um…fun…”
“Yeah? I’m glad. Only the best for my husband.” I want to say that word over and over again. It feels so right.
He rubs the back of his neck. “Your very sore husband.”
“Should we get that bum clean so we can get some rest?” I can’t believe we woke up at home this morning, that this has all been one day—the flight, the hotel spa, the wedding, the after party, the scene…But my body knows it’s all been one day; my limbs are aching, tired.
Dante nods, and I help him into the steaming water through winces and pressed lips, occasional grunts, and a little whimper at the end as his sore ass hits the porcelain below.
“Are you okay?” I repeat my earlier question, slowly guiding the washcloth over Dante’s body, careful not to hurt him more. He’s sensitive in some parts, so bruised—a beautiful tapestry of pleasure spent to remember tonight by.
“Sì. Just exhausted.”
I kiss the side of his head, inhaling the new scents covering him. “You did such a good job; took it so well.”
He smiles at the praise. “I wish I could have seen it.”
“Next time, we’ll film it.”
“I hope there will be a next time.” Dante looks up at me through messy curls, and I kiss him tenderly.
“Such a brave boy.”
“Only with you by my side.”
The words make me smile, filling me with warmth.
“Do you think there is space for me?” I ask, getting up to slip out of the little clothing I still had on my body.
Nodding, Dante scoots over, and I join him.
Sitting down between his legs, I lean back against his chest as he wraps both arms around me, holding me close. I can feel his heart beating against my back…and his cock pressed between us. This is what home feels like.
Leaning my neck back on his shoulder, I close my eyes, enjoying his skin against mine, familiar, warm, content.
With a heavy exhale, I weave my fingers through his, interlocking them over my heart. “I love you so much, you know that, right?"
"I do, Missus Fera. I love you too. Too much.” He strokes my nipple, almost absentmindedly toying with the little bump that grows excited under his touch, perking up.
"Hmm...Missus Fera. I like the sound of that. Say it again."
"Missus Fera. My Queen." Dante pinches my nipple, and I giggle in response as his unmistakable erection grows against my back.
"You're hard."
“For you, always."
"Don't move."
Careful not to slip, I get up on my knees to reposition myself over Dante, slowly guiding his cock into me, reverse cowgirl style.
A deep moan echoes off the tiles as the familiar shape fills me, completes me.
For a moment, we just sit there, with him inside me, unmoving.
“Dio mio, you feel incredible,” Dante whispers in my neck, his hand fanning over my stomach, holding me close.
“As do you, darling. Slowly now,” I tell him like I’m not the one in control of the speed, of the movement of impaling myself on his large cock.
I move gradually, grinding myself down on that magnificent appendage again and again as the water splashes around us.
Dante’s hands move down to my hips, holding on as I ride him like I’m trying to fuse our bodies together. When he moves a hand around, to my clit, I know neither of us will last long. Not with the pleasure building so quickly, despite my slow movements.
I pick up speed, not caring about the water spilling from the tub, or how tired my body is, or whether Dante has any cum left inside him after the night we had.
“You have permission, baby. Come for me,” I instruct between rapid breaths and numb legs, grinding down on Dante’s dick as he moans my name on repeat, louder and louder, until we both tumble off the climax cliff together.
Until he comes inside me for the second time as my husband and I collapse against his chest, both of us breathing heavily.
Later, when we finally succumb to exhaustion, our naked limbs intertwined beneath silk sheets, I rest my ear against his heartbeat, counting each beat.
Time seems to stand still in our darkened room, the world narrowed to just this: skin against skin, Dante’s arms locked around me like he'll never let go, that rhythmic beat that drowns out all the negative thoughts.
Even though our problems are far from solved, I know we’ll be okay. Because we have each other. From now until forever.
My last conscious thought drifts through my mind like a satisfied sigh:
Missus Dante Fera.
Finally.