Chapter 98: The Gentle Bath

The Gentle Bath

The bathroom was spacious and quiet.

Around the marble room, soft spirit lamps bathed the walls in a gentle warmth. The glow shimmered on the polished stones and was a soft shine on the surface of the water.

There was a huge tub in the middle of the room.

Steam, which was billowing out of the hot water, silently ascended upward and was soon gone into the atmosphere.

There was also a slight trace of lavender oil which Victor had sprinkled on top. Its aroma had a sweet fragrance which filled the entire room with soothing aroma.

Victor carefully lowered Lane into the tub.

He held an arm around her waist to steady her when her body began to sink, then the water closed over her. Instantly the warmth enfolded her, and her lips found a hushed breath.

He held an arm around her waist to steady her when her body began to sink, then the water closed over her. Instantly the warmth enfolded her, and her lips found a hushed breath.

The water rose to her shoulders.

For a moment, Lane simply remained still.

She felt as if the warmth was melting away her exhaustion that she had been feeling all day.

Victor lowered himself into the tub after her. He scooted back until he was flush against the rounded rim and wrapped his arms around Lane’s middle.

She rested against him without a word.

They floated in the water, warm and relaxing. After all they’d been through that day, it was almost surreal to have that moment of comfort and safety.

Neither of them spoke.

There was no need to.

The only sound was the gentle swirl of water whenever one of them moved.

Victor lowered his gaze toward Lane.

She shut her eyes and sank into the utter comforts of being against him.

For a while, they simply breathed.

Their tired muscles slowly soaked up the heat.

And they didn’t have to think about anything else – for the first time that day.

Victor took a step forward, grab the soap and started washing her. His hands had an infinity of tenderness as if she had been forged from the finest porcelain. He started from the top, his hand exploring the soft curves of her clavicle before sliding down to her arms. He raised each of her hands to wash between each of her fingers.

Then he moved to her hair.

Massaging the soap into her silk black hair, his fingers pressed into her scalp in slow, circular movements. Lane closed her eyes and tilted her head back against his shoulder, moaning softly.

"That feels wonderful, Young Master," she murmured.

"Lay back. "He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I’ll handle you.

He went on to shampoo her hair, deliberate and thorough, and when it was squeaky clean and silky, he went lower.

His soapy hands glided over her breasts to cup them gently. He washed her with tender care, then he teased at her nipples until they hardened. Lane gasped.

"Young Master..." she breathed.

"Shh," he whispered in her ear. "I’ll take care of you."

He moved on to her ass then, his hands kneading the soft curves, feeling their incredible softness, their perfection in his grip. Lane gave a soft moan at the contact and a small twist of her body, but she didn’t pull away.

He began to wash her long legs, his hands moving down her smooth thighs with measured languor. He stroked the contours of her muscles, tapping into her silent strength beneath the soft flesh. He finally got down to her feet and washed each toe in turn.

At last, he moved down to gently wash her pussy, his fingers exploring her sensitive folds with the lightest of touches. Lane shuddered beneath him, a small moan escaping her lips.

"Young Master..." she whispered, tears coating her voice.

"I love you, Little Lane," he whispered.

Then it was her turn.

She swung around and looked at him, her eyes full of love. She took the soap from his hand and started to wash him.

She lathered soap all over his chest, her fingertips mapping the contours of the muscled flesh. She admired his sleek form-each muscle was defined, each line conveyed strength tucked away beneath. She washed his shoulders-felt strength pulsating beneath the skin.

Next, she began to wash his black hair up to his shoulders, combing her fingers through the silky tresses. Savoring each moment, she combed the shampoo into his scalp in the same rhythm as he had felt her doing to her head. Victor closed his eyes with a low moan.

"That feels amazing," he murmured.

"Good," she said, smiling. "It’s only right you get taken care of as well."

Then she tenderly washed his face. Her hands caressed the lines of his handsome features-a broad jaw, angular cheekbones and bright golden eyes gazing back at her with the kindness of love.

Then she moved lower.

She washed his cock, soapy hands long and slow on him and felt him begin to harden almost as soon as her hands moved against him.

"Little Young Master, you’re getting hard again," she teased with a smile.

"Sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "You are just too pretty."

She went pink, and went on washing him – slowly taking time to clean his balls and shaft. She wanted to remember every bit of him – each surface, each reaction.

When she was finished, their eyes met.

Fully.

Completely.

No barriers between them.

No walls.

Just two souls bare before each other.

"Young Master," Lane whispered, her voice trembling.

"Yes, Little Lane?""I love you."

The language drifted between them, delicate and precious. To Victor, his chest was bursting.

"I love you too, Little Lane."

They kissed.

Softly.

Gently.

In gentle mime, they pressed their lips together-doctors’ lips, fitting one over the other like jigsaw puzzle parts. The warm water surrounded them and steam – as if a lover had sighed.

And in that moment.

Everything was perfect.