men, but it didn’t make her feel any differently toward him.
Should it? Should I fear him now I know what he’s capable of? She tousled his hair and leaned down to kiss him tenderly. No, I don’t fear him .
Amelia turned to prepare his bath and smiled. Madam had gone to bed and left the stove burning so the water in the pans remained hot. She had also placed the tin tub in front, a quarter filled with cold water. Emmett rose to help her and together they added the hot water. A large, folded linen cloth sat on the chair nearest the stove, along with a bar of soap. Amelia tested the water then stood before Emmett. He was like a broken man, his shoulders drooped, his head bent and she yearned to take all the hurt away. If she could transfer his guilt to herself she would gladly bear it for him.
“Emmett?” She cocked her head and lifted his chin with her finger. “You’ll feel better after a bath. It’s the blood. It’s…”
He looked up into her eyes then down at his hands. As though seeing them for the first time, he jolted, eyes wide. “Oh God. I…” He took an empty pan and scooped bath water into it, placing it on the table. Grabbing the soap, he dipped it in the pan and immersed his hands, scrubbing at the blood.
Amelia wrung her hands, unsure whether to comfort him or let him deal with his burden by himself. She settled for resting her hand on his shoulder, remaining silent until he had cleaned the blood away. He took his hands from the water and held them up, examining them.
“It feels like it’s still there,” he said.
“It won’t always be that way, my love.”
“Won’t it?”
She turned him to face her and undid his shirt, taking it off and pushing it into the soapy water he’d just used. He stared down at his chest. Dried blood flecked the skin and he dove forward, wrung out the shirt and rubbed it over himself until the proof of his crime had disappeared. He toed off his boots and pulled down his breeches, loosing a wobbly sigh as he stepped out of them. Amelia took his hand and kissed it, wanting him to know the blood had gone, really gone, then helped him into the large tub. With his knees bent, he was able to lean back a little and submerge his chest. Eyes closed, he faced the ceiling.
I feel so helpless …
Amelia took the soap out of the pan and kneeled beside the tub. She lathered it, inhaling the sweet lavender scent, and dropped it into the water. With tender strokes, she cleaned him, wishing her hands had the ability to heal, to take the past away. As she washed his belly, he opened his eyes, smiling sheepishly as his cock hardened. She soaped it to full erection, her hands gliding up and down easily with the lather. He felt good in her hands, solid and reassuring, more like the man she knew rather than the sad person he had been this night. Brushing her thumb over his tip, she drew circles then dragged her hand down his shaft. She watched his reaction. He stared down, his eyes half-lidded, a soft smile curving his mouth. She slid her other hand between his legs and he raised his hips a little. Amelia found his ass pucker and pushed past the tight barrier, burying her finger inside. The sheath gripped her finger and she slowly rubbed the raised protuberance there.
His eyes widened and a quiet gasp left him. “If you continue with that…”
She smiled, knowing he knew she would. With light strokes, she circled the nodule inside him and with stronger, faster strokes she worked his cock. His pelvis jerked out of the water, sending a spray of it slapping onto the floor beside her. While his cock throbbed against her palm, Amelia squeezed him inside her fist, pumping him with increased speed. The water washed away the lather and his tip darkened, a thick pearl of creamy pre-cum dribbling. She leaned over and licked it off, taking her hand from around him and plunging his cock into her mouth. His hand settled on the top of her head and she allowed him to direct how fast she
Should it? Should I fear him now I know what he’s capable of? She tousled his hair and leaned down to kiss him tenderly. No, I don’t fear him .
Amelia turned to prepare his bath and smiled. Madam had gone to bed and left the stove burning so the water in the pans remained hot. She had also placed the tin tub in front, a quarter filled with cold water. Emmett rose to help her and together they added the hot water. A large, folded linen cloth sat on the chair nearest the stove, along with a bar of soap. Amelia tested the water then stood before Emmett. He was like a broken man, his shoulders drooped, his head bent and she yearned to take all the hurt away. If she could transfer his guilt to herself she would gladly bear it for him.
“Emmett?” She cocked her head and lifted his chin with her finger. “You’ll feel better after a bath. It’s the blood. It’s…”
He looked up into her eyes then down at his hands. As though seeing them for the first time, he jolted, eyes wide. “Oh God. I…” He took an empty pan and scooped bath water into it, placing it on the table. Grabbing the soap, he dipped it in the pan and immersed his hands, scrubbing at the blood.
Amelia wrung her hands, unsure whether to comfort him or let him deal with his burden by himself. She settled for resting her hand on his shoulder, remaining silent until he had cleaned the blood away. He took his hands from the water and held them up, examining them.
“It feels like it’s still there,” he said.
“It won’t always be that way, my love.”
“Won’t it?”
She turned him to face her and undid his shirt, taking it off and pushing it into the soapy water he’d just used. He stared down at his chest. Dried blood flecked the skin and he dove forward, wrung out the shirt and rubbed it over himself until the proof of his crime had disappeared. He toed off his boots and pulled down his breeches, loosing a wobbly sigh as he stepped out of them. Amelia took his hand and kissed it, wanting him to know the blood had gone, really gone, then helped him into the large tub. With his knees bent, he was able to lean back a little and submerge his chest. Eyes closed, he faced the ceiling.
I feel so helpless …
Amelia took the soap out of the pan and kneeled beside the tub. She lathered it, inhaling the sweet lavender scent, and dropped it into the water. With tender strokes, she cleaned him, wishing her hands had the ability to heal, to take the past away. As she washed his belly, he opened his eyes, smiling sheepishly as his cock hardened. She soaped it to full erection, her hands gliding up and down easily with the lather. He felt good in her hands, solid and reassuring, more like the man she knew rather than the sad person he had been this night. Brushing her thumb over his tip, she drew circles then dragged her hand down his shaft. She watched his reaction. He stared down, his eyes half-lidded, a soft smile curving his mouth. She slid her other hand between his legs and he raised his hips a little. Amelia found his ass pucker and pushed past the tight barrier, burying her finger inside. The sheath gripped her finger and she slowly rubbed the raised protuberance there.
His eyes widened and a quiet gasp left him. “If you continue with that…”
She smiled, knowing he knew she would. With light strokes, she circled the nodule inside him and with stronger, faster strokes she worked his cock. His pelvis jerked out of the water, sending a spray of it slapping onto the floor beside her. While his cock throbbed against her palm, Amelia squeezed him inside her fist, pumping him with increased speed. The water washed away the lather and his tip darkened, a thick pearl of creamy pre-cum dribbling. She leaned over and licked it off, taking her hand from around him and plunging his cock into her mouth. His hand settled on the top of her head and she allowed him to direct how fast she
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