Page 55 of House of Cards

“Hot!”

“Warm water helps.”

She throws me a blank look over her shoulder. “You really think warm water’s what I need right now? What Ineedis probably illegal in most states.”

I was going to let her shower in privacy, but after that comment, I decide against it. With her back turned, she doesn’t seem to notice when I step in behind her. I take a moment to assess her before taking off my glasses.

Her bright red, puffy skin. Those vivid, raised welts covering her ass. Her tangled hair. The way her hand shakes as she holds a hand under the soap dispenser.

I strip, leaving my clothes in a messy pile beside the shower, for once not bothering to fold them. Too eager to step up behind her.

Only when I reach past Zoey for the bottle of shampoo does she realize she’s not alone in the shower anymore.

She jerks in surprise, bumping into me as she tries to retreat. Instantly, my cock is on high alert, already getting hard from that brief touch. I catch her as she tries to turn around, keeping her in place.

“You couldn’t wait until I was done?” she snaps. The shower seems to have revived her a little.

We usually leave the aftercare to Eddie. He makes sure the Angels hydrate, bathe, and apply ointment after each session.

This is highly irregular, but so was everything that happened in that playroom.

She flinches when I pour shampoo on her hair, but doesn’t resist when I lather it into her scalp. After a moment, she even leans into the touch, her arms dangling limply at her sides.

When I’m done washing her hair, I rinse it out and coat her hair in conditioner, working it through the tangles with my fingertips. She attempts to wash herself with the soap while I’m busy, but she’s doing a piss poor job.

I grab her wrist, savoring the way her muscles tighten as she fights me before she reluctantly lets me take the soap from her hand.

“Control freak,” she mutters as I squirt soap onto my hands and build up a lather.

Her skin breaks out in goosebumps when I run my soapy hands over it. When my fingers glide over her breasts, her nipples tighten into hard little buds. I struggle not to tweakthem, forcing my hand down her belly instead. She grabs my wrists before I reach her apex, and this time, she doesn’t let go.

“I can do that,” she says in a tight voice.

“How will I know you did a proper job?”

She lets out an indignant huff, but her fingers release their grip by a fraction.

A pleased rumble vibrates in my chest as I slide both hands down, grabbing her inner thighs and tugging her legs apart.

“Lean forward, hands against the wall.”

“I swear I’m innocent, officer,” she mutters as she obeys, then lets out a sulky, “Ow.”

“What now?” It’s more a growl than words.

“Hurts.”

“Suck it up.”

The sight of her bruised ass so perfectly poised in front of me has given me a hard-on the size of my fucking forearm. I admire her plump curves with a smirk as I drag my hands over her pussy.

She shudders as I clean every inch of her, then rinse her off just as well. The last time I slide my hand over her pussy, it’s as slippery as if I just soaped her up. Grabbing the front of her throat, I tug her against me. She gasps, her hands grabbing onto my arm as if she thinks I’m about to strangle her.

But all I want is to catch her scent.

I dip my head, pressing my nose and lips to her hair, inhaling her, basking in the warmth of her body against mine.

She trembles against me, silent, unmoving.