Rekindled Ch. 03

He spoke then, one word that consumed my existence.

"Cum."

Time stopped.

The word, the command, coursed like a bolt of firey lightning through my veins and nerves and shot out of my fingertips and toes and lips and eyelashes and from the ends of my hair. I felt myself bucking, felt myself thrashing, heard a voice screaming in the most divine of pleasures. It was my voice, my own orgasm into which I was falling and crashing and rising and crashing again, much like the waves of the sea against the sand-lined shores.

It seemed to last an eternity. I screamed His name like a pleading blessing into the room, heard the sounds that escaped my throat sound so foreign and yet so close and familiar.

Finally, in a rush, my body was done. I collapsed against the bed and lay completely still. I didn't think I could move if I wanted; every muscle was twitching and shaking, my tongue felt deliciously heavy, and my mind was still in the most beautiful rainbow blur of light and sensation and colour and His eyes.

I felt His arms around me, cradling me to His chest as He whispered His love for me into my ear, again and again.

"That's My girl. That's My beautiful, wonderful slavegirl. Breathe, My love. Just breathe..."

After a few moments of these ministrations, He stood up and covered my body in a light blanket. Caressing the hair out of my eyes, He kissed my forehead and left the room. I panted as I tried to regain my senses, but eventually gave up and surrendered into the lingering affects of the orgasm that still shimmered through my senses.

I must have dozed into a light sleep for a time, because He was suddenly at my side again after what seemed like barely a moment, though the clock on the wall said it had been nearly twenty minutes. He gathered my naked body into His arms and stood, pressing His mouth tenderly against mine again, His fingers caressing my legs as He carried me down the hall into the bathroom. He had drawn a bath for me, warm and full of bubbles and smelling of lavender and cherry blossoms.

He lowered me into the water, the perfect temperature of warmth. He insured that my bandaged leg was out of the water's way before shedding His own boxers and slipping into the tub behind me. He held me against His chest as He washed my body from head to toe, using a washcloth and some deliciously aromatic soap to cleanse away the sweat and sleep's reminiscent presence from my skin.

After a time, He drained the water and lifted me from the tub to sit on the closed lid of the toilet. He ran warm water in the sink and took a razor and some shaving cream into His hand. Gently, He shaved my legs, working around the bandages carefully, and even my underarms with the tenderest of touches, being very careful to keep from cutting me in any way. He was silent through all this, as though to let the intimacy of touch provide all the dialogue between us.

When He was finished, He spread my legs and placed a towel beneath me, lathering between my legs and moving to shave my mound and down fully over my lips.

"I will not hurt you, My girl, but you must hold very still and let me do all the work. I promise I will be careful with you. Trust me, little one." I nearly wept at the tenderness He was showering upon me.

When He was finished, He brought me a fresh change of clothing, and left the room to grant me some privacy to use the toilet and to dress myself, as well as to have a few moments to gather my thoughts.

I dressed rather quickly, tugging my hair back into a ponytail to somehow contain my tussled raven locks, as my loose curls tended to run amok if I was not careful.

There was a tap at the door, and Etienne poked His head in. He cast His glance over me, inspecting the dark skirt which fell to right above my knees, and the dark blue shirt with a neckline that swept low to expose more than a little of my curving breasts. He had not provided panties or a bra with the clothing He brought, which did not really surprise me all that much.

With a light twinkle in His eye, He reached out His hand and tugged the blinding from my hair.

"I like it loose, My love." He halted my impending protests with a practiced look. "It's not a mess, so don't even try to give Me that. It's beautiful. Always wear it loose for Me, little one."

He swept me up into His arms, carrying me toward the stairwell.

"Your crutches are at your chair downstairs, Iz. I will let you walk with them on the ground floor but not up and down stairs. Maybe it will come in time with some more practice, but I do not want you to fall and injure yourself."

I nodded. It made sense, as I had always been rather awkward on my legs when they worked normally, let alone when one was out of commission for a time.

He leaned in and kissed my nose as we reached the base of the stairs. I smiled up at Him.

"Now come eat some breakfast, My little one. You have much to learn, and I have much to teach, My little cariad, My dearest slavegirl. My precious Isabeau."

I was afraid, that had not changed. But there was freedom coming too, little by little, He wall pulling the release from me. This day was the start of a new life for me...and it had only just begun.

I took a deep breath, and looked up into His eyes. I was afraid, but I wanted this. I wanted my life back. My shaking fingers touched against the band of silver at my throat.

"I'm ready, Master. Make me Yours again."