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I touch the skin at my neck, thinking back to how it felt to be choked by him.
Come all over my cock like my perfect little slut.
The memory of his filthy words and the spankings sends a pang of arousal down to the pit of my stomach. Am I always going to be this horny now that I’ve had sex?
Deciding it’s best to rinse off, I look for a towel, finding a collection of them in a side closet sitting on warmers.
I’m used to luxury, given I live in a mansion with way too many rooms and amenities, but being in Dion’s cozy and charming house is different.
I grab a large bath towel and strip out of his shirt. Bringing it to my nose, I inhale, smelling a mixture of my perfume and his scent. Gosh, I’m being such a creep.
Stepping under the hot water, I grab a bottle of body wash and squeeze some onto a brand-new loofa. Rubbing the soap on my skin, I’m once again assaulted by memories of Dion’s hands traveling all over my curves.
He could be right next door, and I’m thinking of him doing the dirtiest things to me. I should feel ashamed.
When I’m done soaping up my body, I grab the shower head and rinse.
The hot jet lingers a second too long on my breasts, causing my nipples to harden. Immediately, a tingle starts at my center. The more I let the water hit my nipples, the more the ache between my legs grows.
What if I just…? No. He could hear me, and that would be mortifying. Dion is a stranger, and I wouldn’t want him to know that I’m touching myself in his house.
But I could make it quick…no. It’s not a good idea.
I huff. Ignoring the two arguing sides of my brain, I bring the shower head to my mound, right over my clit, and a jolt of pleasure shoots up my spine. I close my eyes.
Fuck it. It’ll only take a minute.
I’m so turned on; it won’t take long before I come.
My head springs back, a throaty moan escaping my lips. My eyes fling open. Oh my God. Was that loud? Fuck.
I stop moving for a few seconds. I didn’t lock any of the doors, so Dion could barge in here at any moment. Not that he should. That would be a major invasion of privacy.
Hearing nothing, I continue to assault my clit with the water, small moans passing my lips. I can’t help it.
Just as I thought, my climax quickly builds in my core. I’m close.
Upping the speed, I move my hips to meet the spray, my orgasm rising to the surface. “Yes,” I hiss under my breath. “God, yes,” I moan. Then, waves of pleasure hit me hard and quick.
I brace myself with one hand on the shower wall, breathing heavily.
Now that I’ve gotten rid of the ache, I feel ready to face the day. Sort of.
When I step out of the bathroom, I notice a pair of jogging pants and a new t-shirt on the bed. Did Dion come in while I was showering?
Just then, a noise comes from the walk-in closet, so I step toward it, expecting to see Dion rummaging in there. But a short, middle-aged woman appears in the doorway.
“Oh my God!” I yelp, grasping onto my chest, almost dropping the towel around me.
The woman also jumps, before smiling at me. “I’m so sorry, Miss Kastellanos. I didn’t mean to scare you. Dion told me to bring these to you,” she says, pointing to the clothes on the bed.
I breathe out. “No worries, uh…” I stop mid-sentence, realizing I don’t know the woman’s name.
“It’s Helen, dear.” Of course. Dion’s housekeeper. He briefly mentioned her last night when he offered me a snack that I refused. I didn’t have much of an appetite once I remembered how I’m never going to see him again after this. Helen must be the one keeping everything tidy and fully stocked.
“Thank you, Helen. Please, call me Aria.”
She nods and smiles. “I’ll let you get changed. When you’re ready, join us downstairs for breakfast.”
