Aftercare

Aftercare

Zina POV

When we reach Jared's place, he takes me straight upstairs.

We don't stop in his bedroom either, pulling me into his giant bathroom.

There's a glass shower, and with one hand still laced with mine, he uses the other to turn on the water. Then, without a word, he begins stripping me of my clothes.

His ministrations are slow and deliberate, as if I'm sick or hurt and he's trying to pamper me.

When he pulls my dress off, he kisses the black-stained skin where the candle wax fell.

When he releases my bra, he kisses the red marks from the clamps. And he gently presses his lips against the spot where he bit me earlier.

They're not heated kisses. He's not trying to get me warmed up for more sex. It feels more like he's trying to heal the hurt, and I want to tell him there's nothing to mend.

Nothing physical at least. But if he can quiet these voices of doubt and fear in my head, that would be great.