Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Neil leaned down and kissed me, briefly. “What do you need first?”
“A shower,” I said, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. He helped me up, but my legs still trembled from the adrenaline coursing through me. My heart pounded, and I sagged against Neil.
“Here,” Emir said. “Let me.”
I didn’t protest as he scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bathroom. I tucked my make-up smeared face against his chest. Neil went ahead of us to turn on the taps in the shower. There were eleven multi-directional showerheads, but he opted instead for the rainfall attachment in the center. Emir set me on my feet, but I was still wobbly, so I held onto his shoulders as we stepped into the water.
“Lean on me,” he said softly, bringing our wet skin together. I laid my cheek against his chest and let him support me as Neil stepped up behind us. I heard the click of a bottle opening.
“Brace yourself, this is cold,” Neil warned before his hands spread the shampoo over my hair. I moaned, and my knees went weak. The gentle scrubbing of his fingers against my scalp eased away the negative emotions that always threatened after a hard session. Though I craved pain, humiliation, and total domination, the reality of what I’d done, what I’d let them do to me, could bring me crashing down.
It affected Neil, too. We’d discussed before how ashamed he sometimes felt after we played. Though he knew I enjoyed the things he did to me, he still sometimes struggled with his own desire to hurt me during our scenes. The tender aftercare he provided wasn’t just for me, but for both of us. It reminded us of the purpose of our play.
While Neil washed my hair, Emir stroked his fingers up and down my spine, sluicing the water over my skin.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful as your face when you came,” he murmured to me. “I’ve never seen pain so artfully transformed.”
The kind words brought tears to my eyes. Neil’s hands briefly stilled, and his body pressed closer as he and Emir kissed, slow and deep, above my head. I tilted my face up, and their mouths found mine, first Emir’s, then Neil’s.
After all three of us washed and dried, we went back to the bedroom. It still smelled like sex and sweat, and despite the satiety that made my limbs heavy and my brain weightless, the scent woke my appetite. Neil pulled the duvet back and lay me on the clean sheets, on my side so I could roll to my stomach and not put pressure on the marks on my behind. “I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared briefly, and I could only blink up at Emir sleepily.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice tired. “This has made my visit to New York more than worth the tedious flight.”
“I thought all billionaires had their own private jets,” I said. My voice was hoarse. I hadn’t realized how hoarse.
“Two,” Emir said with a smirk. “But that doesn’t mean I like to be trapped in one for twelve hours.”
“I’m glad we could welcome you with open…arms.” I raised an eyebrow, upping the cheese factor of my double entendre.
Emir mimed putting on sunglasses and quietly imitated the CSI theme song.
“For you,” Neil said when he returned. He handed me an ice-cold bottled water, and I leaned up on my elbows to gulp it down.
“One for you,” he said, and tossed another bottle to Emir. Neil also carried our small first aid kit. He sat beside me on the bed and popped the plastic latches. He withdrew some Tegaderm film—a fun little bandage we’d learned about during his chemotherapy two years before—and some first aid ointment. Emir stretched out beside me on the bed while Neil tended to the cuts inflicted by the cane, and when I was properly tended and cared for, Neil joined us.
The intimacy of the evening had been dizzying. Now, the three of us needed some recovery. Neil lay before me, our legs threaded together, his forehead resting against mine. Emir spooned me, his strong arm lying across my waist while the other arched over my head so his hand could find Neil’s. We dozed together that way, warm and clean and naked, communicating our feelings for each other through lazy touches and languorous kisses as we drifted in and out of slumber. Hours later, Emir rolled to his back and sighed. “I should go. It’s late, and I have a very long day tomorrow.”
I made a disappointed mewl, but I couldn’t be greedy. I hadn’t even expected to see him tonight. “At least come back to the house and have something to eat. We have leftovers.”
“We always have leftovers,” Neil said with a roll of his eyes. “Our housekeeper cooks for a banquet every night, regardless of how many people we tell her to expect.”