Dark Ch. 05

byValentineSatterlee©

Tammany lays me atop the bed, kissing my forehead gently before turning to leave. "I'll be right back."

I don't know whether to be relieved or afraid. I fear and loathe him as much as want and need him.

I must have dozed off, because when my door closed again I wake with a start. Tammany comes in holding a large basin, placing it in the center of my room. Stepping out the door momentarily without letting it close, he also hauls in a little flat topped potbelly stove. A pail of water is set atop it and the stove lit, quickly filling the room with heat and setting the water to steaming. Tammany replaces it with another after pouring the heated water into the makeshift tub. After doing this several times he turns to me, sweat glistening on his brow.

"Come here, Love."

I had thought he would at least leave me to bathe alone, allow me to save some shred of my dignity. I shake my head, remaining fast to the bed.

"Please trust me," his voice was beginning to take on an edge of aggravation. He is losing patience with me, but mine is already nonexistent.

"All of this is your fault," I tell him baldly. "You did all of it. They think I'm crazy because of you!" My voice is rising, taking on the all too familiar tones of madness. "And now you want me to trust you? You're the one who should be locked in that lunatic's cell for a day, not me." I huff, getting brave.

But Tammany is not deterred. He strides tall and quick to the bed and practically pulls me to standing. I stand, knowing I have little choice, but I stare him defiantly in the face, my heart pounding within my ears the entire time, heat rising to my cheeks.

As he stares at me, Tammany's eyes become wide, intent upon my face. His pupils begin to dilate and his breathing becomes quick and deep. He kisses me, without warning, hard and demanding, leaving little room for protest. His arms come around me and his hands press upon my damaged skin. I gasp against his mouth, which only makes his kiss deeper.

As his hands leave my back they slide down my waist to rest upon my ass. I've never been touched in this way before, and again feel my cheeks flush. Tammany plants a kiss upon my burning cheek, then another down upon my neck. My tiny chest heaves as my breathing deepens, Tammany moving his lips ever lower. He kisses along one of the angry lines he left upon the top of my right breast, not yet beginning to heal, a small moan leaving his parted lips as he does so, hands tightening upon my bottom.

He works slowly down to my navel, bringing each hand up and around to my protruding hips. To my utter embarrassment, he slowly slides my panties down the length of my legs, as naked as I've ever been before. I am completely exposed before him.

My entire body takes up an obvious tremble despite the heat of the room. I thought for sure he would take what he wanted from me then, claim me completely as his own, but he did not.

Instead, he gives a long, hungry look at my body before scooping me up and placing me into the basin of water.

I gasp, and then let out a satisfied groan as the steaming water warms me. I sink as far into it as I can, legs pulled up nearly to my chest in an effort to immerse my aching body in as much of the water as possible.

Tammany smiles, obviously pleased at my pleasure, and despite myself I smile back at him. I begin to scoop my cupped hands into the water, bringing it up to wash over my face and shoulders, regrettably puling myself into a sitting position. Tammany had found a cup and dips it, and I let him pour it over the length of my hair.

My eyes have closed as I revel in the feel of water flowing freely down my back. I open them only when the second cup of water I had been so looking forward to never comes. Tammany is staring at my long white neck, arched back with the weight of my hair. I straighten, and he clears his throat, seemingly embarrassed, before dipping the cup again. I am beginning to think I have some pull over him as well.

I wash my hair, then plait the entire length of it, pulling the braid up and into a knot at the back of my head to keep it out of the way.

Tammany produces a bar of lye and lathers his hands with it. What could have been an intimate, even romantic gesture of him washing me (now that I am beginning to give into him) is quickly banished with the use of the lye. My too fresh wounds burn horribly as he runs his soapy hands along them, and I cringe each time he brings them to my skin.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." he keeps repeating, almost to himself as much as to me. He is rocking slowly as he works, his face a mask of turmoil, he wants this but he doesn't. I wonder, not for the first time, if the pain of others turns him on.

When he is finished Tammany puts a hand gently beneath my elbow, beckoning me to stand. He rinses my body completely with a fresh pail of water, then sits back on his heels and watches my skin glisten in the light of the little stove.

He seems entranced, and his breathing becomes very deep, eyes widening once again. My skin dries quickly in the warm air, yet my hair still drips slightly. I feel a drop run down my chest and reach up to wipe it away, but when I bring my hand back up I realize it isn't water- it is blood.

The lye has opened my wounds once again, and every one of them is weeping blood. I've already swiped at it, and look in horror at the smearing of red across my clean body. Tammany places two trembling hands on my shoulders, already heaving with panicked breaths.

It is now that my earlier thoughts of my pain being his pleasure become truth. Tammany brings his lips to the curvature of my neck and kisses it, although he does not linger long, moving quickly to the weeping red line between breast and collarbone. He kisses, licks, and sucks at it, hands clutching me to him. I arch back in exquisite agony, my pain suddenly becoming pleasurable.

Soon Tammany is wildly exploring my body with hands and mouth, moans regularly escaping his lips. My hands became buried in his tawny hair, clutching him to me even when all my good sense tells me to run far, far away from him.

"You have to go," I beg of him. "Please, please go now."

"I want to stay," he says simply.

"I know. But I don't want to do this, please Tammany..."

I look down and away from him. The blood from my wounds is beginning to drip into the basin, turning the water pink. The lye still stings my skin, and I know Tammany's eyes are burning into my face. He hesitates, sighs, and turns to go.

"Tammany," I turn and place a hand out towards him. He just looks at me, the expression on his face painfully obvious that he does not really want to go.

"Thank you, for the bath."

He gives a small smile and closes the door gently behind him as he goes.

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