One Night Three Hearts by Adele Allaire

Author:Adele Allaire [Allaire, Adele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Literary, Women's Fiction, Contemporary Women, Contemporary Fiction, Literary Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Psychological, Romance, Sagas, Short Stories
Amazon: B00DZZG89Y
Publisher: Adele Allaire
Published: 2014-02-11T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

Atonement

They washed her like a baby afterwards. They removed her beautiful gown and water dripped on her from at least two directions. They refused to unbind her or take the blindfold off, and it felt stuck to her face. Pulsing water shot at all her slightly sore holes; she guessed the shower had multiple handheld shower heads. One with a heavy pressure kept aim at her clit, while another one pressed up against her aching asshole, and Rose felt consumed with water.

I’m getting rinsed out.

Someone soaped her up with something that smelled like coconut oil. Multiple hands rubbed her all over. The touches were gentle, and occasionally someone whispered "good girl" or "love you" in an ear. The subtle differences of the whispers made it hard to tell which one belonged to her husband. A new sense of submissive obedience kept her from saying anything. Rough textured towels dried her, with extra care spent on her long hair that insisted on sticking to her shoulders and back. Her senses came under a completely different kind of assault this time; it was more like a reward for a job well done.

Almost like a standing ovation, she thought as she remembered the window and the lights.

Nudged forward out of the shower, she felt the cool tile beneath her feet and then the tight pile of the carpeting, one of them led her to lay on something soft. She surmised there were some high thread count sheets on the bed given the hotel's reputation for opulence.

My husband and the best man from our wedding just fucked me in both ends, then bathed me like I was their pet afterwards, and I think about the thread count of the sheets. What the hell is wrong with me?

As the reality of what transpired earlier set in, the confused jumble of conflicting feelings and anticipation of what would happen next fought a strange fight for attention in Rose’s mind. Her head sunk into a pillow and then someone arranged her bound hands above her head. Rose felt Matt's stubble tickle her face again as he kissed her deeply while she heard the sound of the shower turn on.

Her hefty breasts settled to their respective off-centers without the loose restraint of the gown to provide them any support. Rose noticed a tinge of self-consciousness bubble up, and she wistfully longed for the days when they were a bit more perkier for him.

The kisses weren't urgent this time; his tongue lazily explored her mouth with a slight nibble on her lower lip interspersed like delicate pauses. His thumb brushed back pieces of her damp hair stubbornly clinging to her cheek.

"Matt," she whispered. "Can you please take off the blindfold? I want to see you." Of all the questions and things she wanted to say, that managed to pop out?

"Hmm, I don't know if Jason would appreciate that," he said in a low voice. "His whole plan was to deprive you of senses all night."

So this was Jason’s fantasy? I don’t know exactly how to process that.

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