I can hear her breathing hitch, but she doesn’t comment on the wholeour housething. Instead, she just mumbles, “Of course you have everything I need, you creepy stalker.”
“Yeah, but I’myourcreepy stalker.”
“Yes, you are!” she says, laughing, before turning to me seriously. “You better not stalk anyone else, ever again.”
“I promise, Angel. It’s only you and me from now on.”
I’ve barely parked my car before I’m jogging around to Sloane’s door to open it and scoop her into my arms. Her eyes have been wide since we turned into the driveway, and all she’s been able to say is “wow”. I’ve been waiting for weeks to give her a tour of her new home, but right now, I need to get her in a warm bath.
Her “wows” continue to our en suite bathroom, and if she doesn’t stop craning her head to look around at everything, I’ll be treating a sprained neck as well as a swollen pussy tonight.
“I’ll give you a tour of everything later,” I assure her. “We’ve got a nice hot bubble bath to get to.”
The mention of a bath relaxes her. “If you insist.”
I carry her through our bedroom and smirk when I notice the surprise on her face.
“Is this your room?”
“Ours,” I correct her.
I set her down on the bed before going to run the bath. When I walk back in, I’m confused by the frown on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just, this doesn’t really seem like your style, and…I was just thinking, it kinda seems like this may have been decorated by another woman. Like maybe an ex of yours or something.”
Fuck. I didn’t think about how that would look. I was so focused on making this roomhersthat it never crossed mymind. Ofcourseshe would think another woman decorated this.
I walk over to her and start removing her clothes. “I renovated this entire house to meet your tastes, this room included. In fact, this is the first room I’ve had thathasn’tbeen decorated by a woman. And by woman, I mean either my mom or an interior designer. I just wanted you to feel at home when I finally got you here. I picked out everything myself,” I say with a proud grin. I grab her face and turn her attention to me. “I’ve never brought another woman into this house, much less this bedroom. You’re the only one, baby.”
I wipe away a tear that’s falling down her cheek, then finish undressing her before picking her up again and carrying her into the bathroom. I set her gently into the warm water before turning off the faucet.
“Are you going to join me?”
The large clawfoot tub is more than large enough for both of us, but I don't trust myself tonight. “No, Angel, tonight is just about me taking care of you. Plus, your pussy is too sore to take me again tonight, and if I get in that tub with you, that’s exactly what it would be doing.”
She laughs. “I can’t argue with that.”
The next hour is spent taking care of my girl. Using the coconut soap she loves, I suds up my hands and run them over every inch of her body, making an effort to be especially gentle over the bruised areas. When I get to her beautiful pussy, I take extra care running my fingers through every crevice. She shivers as I trace my soapy fingers over her clit, and it takes all that's within me not to push this further.
When she’s squeaky clean, I squeeze a dollop of her shampoo into my hands and lather her hair with it, spending more time than necessary washing and conditioning, then grab a heated towel and wrap her up in it. Motioning for her to have a seat at the vanity, I find some soothing bruise cream I bought just in case I got a little toobiteywith my angel.Nobody can accuse me of not knowing myself.I apply it gently to her neck, being extra careful where I broke her skin. I can’t help but gently wrap one hand around her neck when I’m finished. Her eyes, which had drifted closed while I alternated applying the cream and massaging the back of her neck and shoulders, pop open and meet mine.
“You weren’t paying attention to me,” I pout, sticking my bottom lip out dramatically.
Sloane leans into my hand, and I give her a tiny squeeze, watching her pupils dilate.If I don’t stop right now, there won’t be enough bruise cream in the world for how sore her pussy will be. I ease my grip, and she rises just enough to press a soft kiss to my pouting bottom lip. “I’m sorry, dear. It won’t happen again.”
“Dear? Is that what you’ve settled on to call me?”
She smirks. “I’m still workshopping nicknames for you, honey. You’ve got so many for me, and I feel like I need to catch up.”
“Hmm, how about Your Majesty, Your Worship, or even just Master?” I suggest with a wink.
“Hmm, how about loser or weirdo or just dork?” she teases.
“Touché,” I say, smiling at how proud I’ll be for her to call me anything she wants as long as I’m hers. But I can see how sleepy she is, so we need to continue her routine so she can rest.
“Is this everything you need?” I ask, picking up a leave-in conditioner spray to coat her hair.
She nods.
