Chapter 8

"Damn,"I say, noticing the filthy wet patch on the neon green streak on his rug. "What a naughty guest I am."

Josh smirks. "Welcome to Belgravia. We'll do the same in your place as soon as you get the keys."

I hitch myself up with a grimace, running my fingers between my ass cheeks to investigate the full extent of the carnage. Hmm. I'm a bit of a mess. His barbells got me good.

I look up at him, and he's examining his cock, but he isn't in the slightest bit fazed by the state of it.

"We'd better get you to the bathroom," he says, "Don't move. I'll help you up."

"It's ok," I tell him, "I'm just a little tender."

"Tender? That's one word for it."

"Big girls don't cry." I wink. "I'm sure I'll be ok," I say and it's so weird as he laughs. The hardcore is behind us for now, and he's back to his regular charming, fun self. He's just ploughed my ass with a Jacob's ladder so hard that I'm bleeding, and his cock is covered in filth, but now, in a flash, he's just the same guy he was at the restaurant.

He's beyond awesome. And so caring, too.

I give him a reassuring grin until I try to get to my feet, crying out as I drop back to the floor. It's not just my ass that feels like it's been torn to shreds, my pussy is aching like a bitch, too. I knew it would be painful, but talk about strained muscles. Mine are cramping to fuck.

"Big girls do cry," Josh says. "Anyone who's been ploughed that hard and taken it like a filthy trooper can cry all they like." He steps on over to me. "Right, here we go," he says, and he handles me so carefully, his hands under my arms as he eases me up from the floor. He switches to my waist when I'm almost standing, holding my weight as I press against his side. Oh my God, I'm going to be shuffling along like a penguin. I try to avoid the penguin shuffle by giving a full step a shot, but Josh holds me back with a woah.

"Don't rush. Too much, too soon!"

Ha! His words make me grin. If only he knew how many times I've thought them.

"I'm going to have to suck it up to get to the bathroom anyway, so I might as well get on with it. I'll pray to the gods of super-soft toilet roll every step of the way."

"No," he says. "You don't have to suck it up."

With that, he scoops me into his arms, taking the pressure off my legs. The burn is still there as I wrap my arms around his neck, but it's so much easier like this.

I relax in his strong arms as he crosses the apartment and kicks open the bathroom door.

He starts up the shower while he's still holding me. I've almost forgotten how sore I am until he tells me to brace myself and lowers me down onto the toilet.

Owww.

"Thanks," I say once I settle onto the seat.

"For toilet roll?" he replies with a smirk as he pulls some from the roller.

I take it from him. "Thanks, Josh. It's nice to be so cared for."

His stunning green eyes are brighter than usual under the bathroom spotlights. Addictive.

"No. Thank you," he says. "It's great to be with someone who isn't so entitled they expect it without so much as a thought."

I think I'll be fine now, but a gentle wipe of the toilet paper between my legs makes me wince.

"You've probably pulled some muscles," he says, like a doctor as he squats and eases my legs open. "Maybe we were a tad overzealous."

"I don't give a shit about pulled muscles. The heat was insane."

"Yes," he says. "It was."

He helps me lift my dress up and over my head, and crouches back down in front of me as I take a pee. He doesn't even blink as he gently wipes me clean after.

"Ready for the shower?"

"God yes."

I'm a bit steadier this time when he helps me to my feet, and it feels like steamy bliss under the running water. What a view as I watch Josh strip naked and step in beside me. It's lovely to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss, and so natural when he soaps his hands up with shower gel and washes me down. His fingers on my shoulders are so skilled it feels like a massage, and I relish every second – even when he spins me around and addresses the state of my ass, spreading my cheeks apart to let the water flow wash me down.

"Bend over," he says.

He kneels behind me to get a better view, using the shower foam to clean the wreckage he's left behind, but it's easing now. Under the warmth of the water, everything is easing.

"Your turn," I say when he's done.

I soap him down, paying careful attention to his cock. The shower gel makes the water run a reddish brown as I wash him. My grip makes him hard, and my clit is sparking again at the sight. Damage be damned.

I keep his cock in my grip, soaping his shaft up and down.

"I think my pussy needs another clean," I say. "It feels dirty."

Oh, his smirk.

"Are you telling me you're horny again already? I'm impressed."

"That's exactly what I'm telling you."

"I'd better take a look, then."

He drops to his knees, and I open my legs, despite the pain. His tongue piercing has me bracing myself against the glass of the shower screen, and he keeps a slow rhythm against my clit, circling me as the water splashes. I could never get enough of him. Never.

He doesn't finger me, or spread me, just gentle tongue strokes over my clit, little nudges that soon have me gripping his hair and writhing into his face.

I'm still panting from a fresh orgasm when he gets back up and kisses me. I foam my hands back up and I work his cock, loving how he thrusts between them.

"That's it," he says. "Grip me tight. Nice and tight. Like that… you're so fucking good."

I glow inside as he tips his head back and closes his eyes, bracing himself as I work his beautiful cock.

"Faster," he says, and I can't help grinning at the sight of his swollen dick in my hands as I pick up the pace.

He tenses, one hand against the tiles, and I feel the tremble run through him before his cock pulses and spurts. It's such a waste to watch his cum wash away down the plughole.

He sighs in relief, then pulls me in for a hug, both of us relaxing in each other's arms, warm and clean as the shower keeps running.

He brushes my ear with his lips.

"How about you stay with me until you get the keys to your apartment? No point travelling back and forth across the city. We both know I'll be inviting you over at every opportunity."

I pull away to meet his eyes, because shit. That came from nowhere, but he's so steady about it. No pretence whatsoever.

"And we both know I'll be accepting your invitations," I reply. "But seriously, are you sure?"

"Deadly."

I run my hand down his chest. "This isn't a charity gig because you know I live in a shithole, is it?"

"No, not at all. I'm being realistic." He smirks. "And it would be an honour. We'll be having one hell of a lot of fun until you get your keys."

"Very true. It would definitely save on cab fair and carbon emissions."

"Is it a yes, then?"

I feel like I'm divebombing again, but I can't help myself.

"It's a yes."

He laughs. "Thank fuck for that. I'd have looked a total fucking idiot if you said no."

"I'd be a total fucking idiot to say no." I pause. "I'll need to go and get some stuff. I've got proposals coming up, and I can't just wear a ballgown until I get my apartment keys."

"I'll come with you. I'm always here to lend a hand."

The thought of him seeing my filthy house gives me the ick, so I shake my head.

"You don't need to do that."

"I don't care. I want to. I don't want you having to lug a suitcase with a sore ass, anyway."

I sigh. "It's a shithole, believe me."

"I'll have seen worse. Believe me."

I reach up to stroke his cheek with my thumb. "You're amazing, you know that? Don't you have a proposal tomorrow night, though? You'll be knackered."

"Again, I'll have done worse."

He dries me down, and it's a heavenly sensation to feel so adored. It's been a long, long time since I've felt this way.

Which is why I need to know this is really real, and I'm not opening myself up to another round of hurt. I couldn't take it again.

I want to face the truth and set off on the right footing – for him as well as me.

"What?" Josh asks. "I can see your brain whirring."

If I want the truth to shine through, why gloss over it?

"I'm just, I dunno," I shrug. "Wary."

"Yeah, same goes for me. I think we've both been shafted and left for dry. It's not a pleasant experience."

I meet his eyes. "No. It really isn't."

He hangs the towel on the rail.

"Want to get the conversation out of the way? Let us both know what we're dealing with here? Cards on the table?"

I'm so glad it's him who has suggested it and not me. I'm clearly not the only one who wants to get the elephant out of the room.

"Sounds great."

He laughs. "Yeah, brilliant fun. Can't wait." I love the sarcasm in his smirk. Love the way he holds me tight. "Let's do it. All on the table, right from the start."

"Brilliant fun, can't wait," I mirror, squeezing him tight. "Right, let's do it."

"You going first or second?" he says. "Your choice."

I weigh it up. Fuck it. I'll dump the emotional baggage from the off, even if I make a tit of myself.

"First," I say.

I just hope there aren't a shedload of tears he has to clear up along with his rug.