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“Wait,” he grits. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
Hot drops of sweat land on my leg and slide down toward my core. His touch turns slick and I realize I’m drenched in sweat too. I’m thinking the possibility of walking tomorrow looks like an unlikely event, when he grunts.
“Now, Lucky.”
I squeeze my eyes shut tight behind the blindfold and glory in the explosion of color across my vision and the detonation of pleasure in my body. Q shouts out his own climax and once again, I’m flooded with his seed.
This orgasm is short, sharp and sublime. But it still blazes from the inside out, and I’m useless by the time it’s done with me.
Q pulls out of me almost immediately. I’m slick from head to toe, but especially drenched between my thighs. I hear a click as he leaves the bed. I remember the cameras, and I try not to grimace at the sight I must make.
I’m still catching my breath when firm hands release me from the rope. He massages my wrists in silence then brings them to my sides. He retreats for a couple of minutes, then I sense his return.
“Sit up for me,” he instructs. His voice is neither harsh nor gentle. He’s settled for a middle ground that throws me into even more confusion.
I raise myself up, and he slips something around my shoulders. My robe. I push my arms through the sleeves and secure the belt.
“I’m going to take you back now. Don’t remove the blindfold until I tell you to.”
Questions crowd my brain, but I nod. “Okay.”
He lifts me into his arms easily, and I’m once again intimate with hard abs and tensile strength. When he starts to walk I reach out, intending to secure my arm around his neck.
He freezes. “No.”
I snatch my hand away. “Umm…sorry.”
“I won’t let you fall, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“The blindfold. It’s just…I’m not used to it.”
“It won’t be on for much longer,” he rasps as he resumes walking.
Too much has happened to me tonight. I don’t possess the brain power to ponder if he means that statement in reference to right now or to the immediate future. His strides are sure and fast as he heads for the wing where I slept last night. The fact that he doesn’t need to open or close doors makes me wonder if there’s someone else aiding him. I skitter away from that thought. I have enough things on my mind to drive me crazy.
He enters what I assume to be my bedroom and the sound of running water mingled with the scent of bath salts permeates the air. The sound grows louder as we enter the bathroom.
“A bath will help with any discomfort.”
He lowers me down and takes the robe off my shoulders. He takes my hand and leads me a few steps to the edge of the tub. “Test the temperature.”
I bend cautiously and touch the warm water. “It’s fine.”
He picks me up and gently places me in the tub and holds on to my hands. “Sit down.”
I lower myself in, and give a small moan when the water and bubbles engulf me. The scent is a heavenly mix of lavender, eucalyptus and aloe. He lets go of my hands, and I lower them to the water to resist the temptation to indulge in one brief touch.
He helps me remove the diamond necklace and earrings, but he doesn’t leave immediately after. My breath freezes, and I know I’m dying for him to tell me to remove the blindfold. When he doesn’t say anything for a full minute, I tilt my head toward him.
“Q?”
“Goodnight, Lucky. Stephanie is nearby. If you need help call for her. Let her know how you feel tomorrow. If you need medical attention it’ll be provided.”
My insides recoil. I’m proud of myself for not letting it show on the outside. But I’m also kicking myself for entertaining the thought that there could ever be a connection between us.
I’m here to be fucked ten ways to Sunday, every hour of every day if he chooses. Whatever extra-curricular scenarios my brain is conjuring up need to be stopped. Right now.
“Goodnight, Q.”