Chapter 14

Elva's azure eyes, brimming with a silent plea, sought my approval to begin, and I responded with a tender nod, granting her the unspoken consent she sought. Her gaze, filled with affection and care, met mine as she embarked on her task. 

She initiated her ministrations by gently drying my hair, her touch as soft as a whisper yet purposeful in its motions.

While the towel draped over me, my gaze remained fixated on the large orbs placed in front of me. Their movements seemed to mirror Elva's actions, causing them to sway and shift in an almost mesmerizing fashion. 

Her golden-brown breast bore the traces of water droplets, which caught the light and sparkled like a cascade of tiny diamonds. With her every motion, these droplets came to life, forming a captivating dance upon their surface, adding an extra layer of enchantment.

As I revelled in the enchanting sight, Elva completed her task with my hair, and she then moved on to my broad shoulders, her touch as soft as a whisper, yet deliberate in its motion. The towel she wielded seemed like an extension of her hand as it slowly and methodically moved down my robust arms, leaving no droplet of water untouched. 

The warmth of her hands seemed to permeate through the fabric, enveloping me in a comforting embrace, almost as if her touch had the power to chase away the chill of the water.

As she descended lower, Elva's touch lingered over my expansive chest, her fingers tracing a deliberate path that stirred both my physical and emotional senses. 

Each stroke seemed to kindle a connection, igniting a warmth within me. 

Elva descended deeper until she found herself face to face with a slumbering monster, its body glistening with moisture. 

A rosy hue graced her cheeks as she knelt in front of it, tenderly caressing the monster and using the soft, fluffy towel to dry its form.

In the intimacy of the moment, I couldn't help but suck in a few breaths. 

As she continued her affectionate care, she could feel the warmth and the gentle, steady pulse of the monster's body, the colossal beast slowly began to stir from its slumber.

However, with a heavy heart, she realized that she had no choice but to part from the creature, caught between her longing and the responsibility of preparing breakfast for her master.

Before I could utter a word to continue, she had already reached my strong legs. 

With a delicate touch, she meticulously dried each leg, her fingertips caressing my skin as if in a loving embrace, her every motion infused with care and devotion.

As she finished, she slowly looked up, her striking blue eyes, reminiscent of the clearest summer skies, meeting mine. 

"Thank You," I conveyed my gratitude with a warm and appreciative smile, and in response, her already blushing face lit up with an even brighter smile that seemed to light up the entire room.

With a soft and determined demeanour, I reached for the towel, my fingers gently wrapping around its fabric. "Now, let me do yours," I insisted, looking into her eyes with a gentle resolve. 

She hesitated, reluctance in her gaze, and in a soft, almost pleading tone, she responded, "No, My Lord, you don't have to. I will do it myself."

A warm smile graced my lips as I continued, "It's not a problem at all. In fact, it would be my pleasure." 

Slowly, I raised the towel and draped it over her head, carefully and lovingly drying her long, lustrous black hair. 

"Master~♡," a voice called out longingly from behind. It was Fae. She stood there, clutching a towel in her hand, her expression silently indicating that she, too, desired to be dried by me. Her eyes held a mix of longing and trust as she gazed at me, a silent plea for the same care and attention.

With a warm and understanding smile, I took the towel from her outstretched hand. Fae's face lit up with a subtle joy as she happily positioned herself next to Elva, her anticipation apparent.

Draping the towel gently over Fae's face, I started to dry her long, golden blonde hair, each strand taking on a radiant glow as it lost its dampness. 

My right hand continued to attend to Elva, ensuring she felt the same level of care and tenderness. Simultaneously, my left hand worked on Fae's hair, with a careful touch.

With gentle precision, I meticulously finished drying their scalps, ensuring every last trace of moisture was taken care of, leaving them feeling refreshed and comfortable.

My attention then turned to Elva, whose long, wet black hair flowed like a silken river from her shoulders to her waist, a captivating display of natural beauty. With reverence, I reached behind her and gathered her hair to bring it to the front, allowing it to cascade like an elegant waterfall.

Taking the towel that had been draped on her head, I carefully wrapped it around the flowing strands of hair I'd placed in front. Every movement was slow and deliberate as I began to dry her hair, the absorbent fabric soaking up the moisture.

As I meticulously dried Elva's abundant raven-black hair, I found myself entranced by both its exquisite beauty and its sheer quantity of it. Each strand was a work of art, glistening as I lovingly ran the towel through its rich darkness. The tactile experience was nothing short of luxurious.

Upon finishing, I slowly unwrapped the towel from her hair, revealing the now perfectly dry, lustrous ebony locks. I couldn't resist the urge to touch, my fingers delicately reaching out to caress her hair. The silky softness was a sensation of pure delight, and I marvelled at its craftsmanship.

The room's overhead lights caught her hair, making it shimmer and glisten like a midnight sea under a starry sky. 

With the towel that had been used to dry Elva's head now resting on my left shoulder, I turned to Fae, who awaited her turn with eager anticipation. 

In a seamless transition, I reached for the towel on her scalp, ensuring that she didn't have to wait too long for her own moment of care and attention. 

In a gesture of tenderness, I reached behind Fae's head, and as her long, wet blonde hair flowed down, it released tiny rivulets of water that gently dripped to the floor. 

The fluffy towel enveloped Fae's long, golden blonde hair, and I began the drying process with utmost care. My hands moved in soothing, circular motions, each stroke an expression of tenderness and devotion, as I ensured that not a single droplet remained.

The towel acted like a gentle sponge, absorbing the moisture from her hair, and turning each strand into a cascade of silkiness. Fae's hair slowly transitioned from damp to impeccably dry, her hair now gleaming like a cascade of molten gold, reflecting the bathroom's soft light.

I then inspected the towels in my hand, and to my delight, not a single strand of hair was left trapped within its soft fibres. 

The towels, which had been in intimate contact with their magnificent locks, remained pristine, not a single dark or golden thread to be found. It was a vivid demonstration of their hair's remarkable health and strength.