Home > Beneath This Man (This Man #2)(159)

Beneath This Man (This Man #2)(159)
Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas

My legs are still wobbly and unsteady. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never wanted to see me again on the grounds of feebleness. I never imagined this, but there was no discussion when I handed Steve the whip. Other than my request of no physical contact with him and to give it to me hard, I said nothing. I practically gave him free reign.

‘Get on your front.’ He lowers me to the sofa on my stomach, and I put my arms under my head as a pillow. ‘Ava, I can’t believe you’ve done this,’ He kneels by the sofa and pulls over a glass bowl of water with a bottle of purple liquid. He squirts the liquid into the water and takes the roll of cotton wool, tearing some off before dipping it in the solution and squeezing off the excess. ‘This is going to sting, baby. I’ll be gentle, okay?’ He puts his face in my field on vision and my eyes lift with some effort, finding green pools of total anguish.

I stare blankly at him, all muscles refusing to work.

‘I’m furious with you.’ he says softly. He lowers his lips to mine and kisses me gently and it’s the first time ever that I don’t have to fight to respond, and it’s not because I don’t want to.

He shakes his head, returning his attention to my back, and I pull in a severe, distressed breath as he unclasps my bra gently, letting the straps lie to the sides. Then I feel the soft cotton wool skimming over my skin. It feels like he is dragging barbed wire across my back. I sob.

‘I’m sorry.’ he blurts. ‘I’m so sorry.’

I turn my face into my arms and clench my teeth as he attempts to coat me in the solution, refreshing the cotton wool repeatedly and reloading it with the warm mixture for each painful swipe. He curses with each one of my flinches.

When I hear the bowl scrap across the table, I let out a long, thankful lungful of air. I turn my face back outwards and see the purple tinged water is now stained red and has all the used cotton wool balls piled inside, soaking up the liquid. He gets up from beside me and returns swiftly with a bottle of water.

He crouches in front of me. ‘Can you sit up?’

I nod and start the painful process of getting myself up into a sitting position on the couch with Jesse flapping and cursing in front of me. My bra falls onto my lap and I half-heartedly attempt to pull it back over my boobs.

‘Leave it.’ He pushes my hands away and puts the water into my grasp. ‘Open your mouth.’ he orders softly. I comply without thought, letting my mouth fall open, accepting the two pills he puts on my tongue. ‘Drink.’

The bottle feels like an iron weight as I lift it to my mouth. He places his hand on the base to alleviate some of the weight, and I welcome the ice cold water into my mouth. Jesse walks over to his desk and grabs his keys, phone and t-shirt. Stuffing them in various pockets, he then pulls his t-shirt over his head and down his body as he walks back towards me. Doesn’t his back hurt? Am I being a complete baby?

He gets my clothes from the back of the sofa and crouches back in front of me. ‘I’m taking you home.’ He opens my jeans at my feet, taps my ankle and I lift, repeating on the other before he helps me up and pulls my jeans up my legs.

He looks from the t-shirt, to my exposed br**sts, and then to me with a slight frown. The thought of anything resting on my skin makes me want to vomit again, but I can’t be walking out of here and into Lusso naked from the waist up.

‘Can we try?’ He stretches the neck of my t-shirt and pulls my dangling bra from my arms before easing it over my head.

I start lifting my arms to accommodate Jesse’s hold on the t-shirt, but tears start to stab at my eyes with the effort and painful stings. I shake my head frantically. It’s going to hurt too much.

‘Ava, I don’t know what to do.’ He holds the t-shirt away from my body. ‘I can’t let you walk out there with nothing on.’ He bends down and looks at me. ‘Please, don’t cry.’ He kisses my forehead as tears stream down my face. ‘Oh, f**k it!’ He pulls the t-shirt back over my head and throws it on the sofa. ‘Come here.’ He bends and curls his arm under my bum and lifts me up with one arm. ‘Wrap your legs around my waist, arms around my neck. Be careful.’ I do as I’m told slowly and carefully. ‘Are you okay?’ he asks.

I nod into his shoulder and link my ankles around the small of his back. I feel him pull my hair over my shoulder and rest his palm on the nape of my neck, holding me as tight as he can without inflicting further pain. My boobs are squished to his chest, my back completely exposed, but I couldn’t care less. He strides to the door and releases my neck to open it, before replacing his hand securely at my nape.

‘Okay, baby?’ he asks, walking down the corridor into the summer room. I nod into his neck. I’m far from okay. I feel like I’ve been lying directly on the sun, all of my skin burnt away, exposing raw flesh. ‘John!’ he yells. There’s a succession on shocked gasps, all sounding more shocked than when I was carried in.

‘How’s the girl?’ John’s low voice is close by.

‘How does she f**king look? Get a cotton sheet from the cleaning quarters.’

John doesn’t retaliate to Jesse’s shortness.

‘Jesse, is there anything I can do?’

I hear a female’s voice full of alarm and her heels clicking on the floor of the summer room as she tries to keep up with Jesse.

‘No, Natasha.’ he replies harshly. I can’t even muster up the strength to raise my head and throw her a filthy look. Is there anything she can do? What? Like f**k him again?

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