Chapter 55
"She needs to be released quickly and taken out of here," Monroe says. I have no idea where he came from. "The room reserved for you has a shower. Warm water will help, and keep the light low for at least an hour."
Monroe unties my bindings first and then we work in tandem unknotting the intricate knots securing Angel. The crowd doesn't wander away as they generally do. They stand and watch while remaining unusually quiet. They seem to know what I feel deep in my soul: The scene was special and Angel is extraordinary.
Her body is mostly limp when I gather her into my arms and Monroe unravels the remainder of rope. When the last strand falls to the floor, I carry Angel's shivering body to the back of the club. The pain in my knee isn't even a thought as I lengthen my stride. Damian stands at the entrance to the private rooms, holding a door open for me.
"Use the phone if you need anything," Damian says as he closes the door quietly behind him.
I ease Angel onto one of the thick floor pillows and swiftly pull a blanket over her trembling body. I rest down beside her and gather her fully onto my lap. Her hair is everywhere, and her body is shaking so hard I'm afraid to do anything but hold her.
"I've got you, shhhh," I whisper and pull her more firmly against my chest. I gently move hair from her face, stroking her softly while I speak.
Soft sobs take over and her shoulders shake harder. Submissives don't always experience sub drop after a scene, but the more intense the play, the more likely they will feel a sudden drop of adrenaline, endorphins, and other hormones. A period of gentle aftercare is the best way to prevent or at least lessen the drop, and it's a special time for both submissive and dominant. I've done this many times, but somehow, I know this with Angel it's even more special.
I let her cry, running my palms over her skin, roaming her body. It's not sexual. Reverent is the only way to describe it. Her submission as the exhibition unfolded was incredible. She gave herself to me and Monroe without restraint. I rock her slowly against the pillows, softly trying to convey how much I appreciate her gift.
I'm unsure how much time passes, but her shaking hasn't lessened and I know I need to do more to help ease her back to normal. I look around the semi-dark room and spy a small refrigerator tucked under the side cabinets.
"I'm only leaving you for a moment. Your blood sugar is low and I need to see if there's something in the refrigerator that will help."
She doesn't respond and curls into a ball when I lay her against the pillows and cross the room. I grab a bottle of orange juice and stroll back over. I gently grasp the hair at the back of her head and place the bottle to her lips.
"Drink."
She manages a small sip and then another. I'm patient and don't care about the juice running from the corner of her mouth and down her chin.
"C-c-cold," she says with chattering teeth.
"Okay, I'll cover you with another blanket and then start the water in the shower."
"D-d-d-don't leave m-me alone," she begs in a trembling voice.
I look down at her. Her eyes are still behind a mask, her body covered in goose bumps, and as much as I want to pull her back in my arms, I know she needs the warmth of the shower. "Only to adjust the water and then I'll get in the shower with you. Hold on, babe, I'm only leaving for one minute." Her shaking body sags as I press her back against the pillows before leaving her.
The shower is a large walk-in with a bench seat. I turn the dual shower heads to hot so the room fills with steam. I remove my pants and peek out the door to check on Angel. She's curled back into a tight ball. I adjust the water temperature and turn off the light before returning to my shivering sub.
"I'm carrying you to the bathroom. Inside, it will be dark and I'll remove your blindfold so you can be more comfortable in the shower."
"Cold," is all that passes her lips.
I lift her into my arms, relishing the feel of her bare skin against mine. I back into the shower so I can judge the temperature first. It's slightly cool now because a gradual increase in heat will be better for Angel. I sit down on the bench and cuddle her in my lap. I'm so fucking turned on right now and it's completely unacceptable. I have more control than this. I shake my head because fuck she's testing every bit of will I possess.
It's her. Maybe it's the fact that she has given herself to Monroe. Whatever she's doing to me is convoluted and driving me crazy. With my eyes closed, I count backward from a hundred and finally manage to contain myself. I reach up and adjust the water temperature without letting her body slip from my lap, which puts a grin on my face. I relax, and as her shivering fades, I slide into a peaceful tranquility, rocking her in my arms once more.
"Master said you will take care of me."
The words are so soft it takes a minute for them to register. "I feel the choice should be yours." The entire slavery thing is not helping this situation. What could possibly happen to a woman to bring her to the point where she's willing to give up her free will and trust someone so completely?
"Please," she says softly.
I need to keep this situation light. "I would do anything for Nathanial, but I'll gladly watch over you just for the chance to wash your hair."
Her giggle is what I wanted. "I washed it before the scene."
The smell of strawberries is even stronger with her hair wet. I put my nose to the strands and inhale. Yeah, that goes straight to my dick again. "I'm afraid if we don't put conditioner in it, the tangles will take hours to unravel," I say.
"Yes, you are probably right."
Her accent is slight, and something nudges my subconscious for a split second. It fades with her next words. "Do we have conditioner?"
"If you're okay in here alone, I'll check."
"Yes."
I place her on her feet then switch places with her before leaving the shower. I open the bathroom door wide and soft light spills in. There are two sinks in the large bathroom with a separate door that leads to a toilet. I find the conditioner in a basket of vanity items next to one of the sinks, along with a comb. I open the bottle and take a sniff.
"Not as pleasing as the strawberries I smelled in your hair earlier, but it'll do." My voice echoes in the tiled room. When I step into the shower, Angel's facing the water so the water's spray streams over her face. Her hands reach up and she pushes the hair and water from her eyes as she turns.
My world rocks.
Hooriya's blue eyes, the eyes from my dreams, stare directly into mine.
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