265: A long bath with her husband (part 1)

A long bath with her husband (part 1)

Egon's expression contorted. "Skilled like..." He repeated the very last thing she had said before drifting into her own inner world. His face twisted in discomfort as he continued, "If there's a particular woman you're drawing parallels with, spare me the specifics."2

Her head shook in melancholy. "No one in particular."

The women from his past, those he'd been with prior to her, would likely outperform her by a significant margin in his bed.

Egon carefully studied her.

"…Are you jealous?"

She lifted her chin, devoid of shame. "Should it be so difficult to fathom a wife's jealousy? Am I not human enough in your eyes?"

"No... Yes, I suppose. It's just…I harbor enough jealousy to cover us both."

Leaning down to retrieve the fallen cloth, he then straightened, casting a commanding shadow over his wife once again.

"Allow me to play the role of the jealous husband while you embrace that of the sensible wife. How does that sound?" His tone underwent one of its familiar abrupt shifts, a pattern she had grown accustomed to.

She understood her husband; he was jealous and possessive, but wasn't that true of her as well?

Wringing most of the water from the cloth, he initiated the task of cleansing her skin—starting with her neck, arms, shoulders, and back. Curiously, the cloth seemed to contain a concealed soap within, as evidenced by the trail of suds it left behind; a gentle aroma of lavender accompanied the experience. It resembled a personal bath within the confines of her own room, though with a singular distinction: a man now shared the bathtub with her for the very first time.

Throughout the process, her gaze remained fixed on him.

After a while, he sighed audibly.

"You truly have no reason to feel jealous." He adjusted the ring on her right hand for her. "Have I even properly explained the significance of this promise ring?"

While the promise ring was deeply valued by Adela, its meaning had receded into the background some time ago. She tried to recall it now, struggling to pinpoint the source of her information about it since Egon had not been the one to impart those facts. 

Egon's patience appeared to have worn thin.

"A bond that persists until the afterlife. Never to be with anyone else. That's the vow I made to you."

A shadow crossed his face as he began his ministrations on her breasts, a profound sadness intermingling with the persistent undercurrent of desire.

"Until the moment our paths crossed…"

His explanation was abruptly halted as her head snapped downward. her eyes following the transparent liquid that trickled down her leg, she looked up at him, utterly mortified. 

"This… Let me wash you."

Lowering himself to his knees, his Adam's apple bobbing, erection pulsating, Egon diligently attended to cleansing her abdomen and legs, while she maintained her balance by resting her hands on his head.

He paused as only her pelvic area remained, staring for a long moment of contemplation before lifting his head to meet her gaze.

"I don't wish to add to the pain I've already caused you."

It was beyond her understanding!

"Your demeanor resembles that of a remorseful villain!" she muttered, finally placing her hand upon her private area to shield it from his view.

He scowled at her hand.

"…This light. It's excessively bright." She explained.

Indeed, the bathroom now glowed with the early morning sun. But her husband continued to scowl. 

She steeled herself, determined to be brave.

"I want to wash you as well," she stated, secretly intending to do as he requested and learn about her husband's physique firsthand instead of seeking information from others about it.

Her equilibrium was disrupted by his laughter.

"My wife is truly endearing when she plots and schemes."

Extending her free hand, palm upturned, she silently requested the cloth, and Egon laughed again as he placed it within her reach. He remained on his knees before her.

"Is your desire to touch me that intense?" He asked, part jesting and partly hopeful.

Summoning a steadying breath, she replied sincerely, "You belong to me. The more I touch you, the better I know you."

His eyes subtly widened, and a visible flush spread from his neck to his ears and forehead.

She wanted to express how adorable he was, yet restrained herself.

Dipping the cloth into the pure water, she clenched and released it a few times, confirming the presence of soap. Yet, instead of applying the cloth directly to his skin, she coated her hands with it, beginning to cleanse him using her own touch.

Her journey commenced at his neck, registering its breadth, her fingers kneading gently. Progressing to the expanse between his neck and shoulders, meticulously tracing every contour beneath her hand.

There were so many. So much of him to love.

"Stay still," she requested, swiveling around and perching herself at the edge of the bathtub where he sat earlier. Dispensing more soap, she set to work on his broad back.

Each scar received special attention, her heart aching as she reflected on the memories they held—she tortured herself with thoughts of a young Egon in Lanark's Forest, confronting a formidable shapeshifter that left everlasting marks on her husband's skin and took his sibling's eye.

It was only with a sniffle that she realized she was crying.

"They no longer burn," he exhaled heavily.

"Exactly how can I aid in that?" she inquired, planning on increasing the dose of whatever that sort of healing was.

"Simply by being next to me." 

"...I am glad I was born."

Standing upright, Adela circled him once more and came face to face with him. "Your knees must be growing uncomfortable. Sit on the edge, please."

As he shifted to comply with her request, water splashed around them. Unlike her, he appeared unaffected by the bright light and his naked state. On the contrary, he settled on the edge, knees apart, hands resting on the tile, his gaze fixed on her with two inquisitive, hawk-like eyes. Clearly, he pondered the very question that had crossed her mind.

Could she genuinely tackle the bold task she had requested?

He closed his eyes and offered a smile, as if to make it easier for her. The gesture was oddly provocative.

The gauntlet had been thrown down. A strategy was taking shape within her thoughts, but she was often distracted, observing his facial expressions as she cleansed his chest and his elongated arms, his reactions immensely gratifying.

He clearly enjoyed the bath, his lips parting when she lingered to massage the areas she was tending to. His breathing gradually slowed, becoming heavier with each scar her fingers traced.

Rinsing the soap from his form, she leaned down with an air of innocence to initiate the cleansing of his legs. Their mutual accord was confirmed as his eyes flickered open and he cast his gaze downward.

His expression shadowed, a sense of anticipation emanating from him.

pqdm.com