Lola & the Millionaires: Part One (Sweet Omegaverse #2)(91)

I crawled to the entrance of the nest, glancing back and pausing as Rake scooted into the empty space I’d left, Leo’s frown smoothing away. There, like you never needed to be there in the first place. I forced the poisonous thought back and stumbled my way out of the room and into the short hall. There were only four robes hanging up, and I’d just left my dress inside the nest, so I grabbed my bag from the floor and snuck into the hall, running for the bathroom. Rake’s cum was dripping out of me, and I was sore and weak, every muscle calling for mercy.

I cranked the hot water on in the shower, twitching as it came out cold, smacking against my tender skin. My knees shook and I sank down to the tiled floor of the shower, the glass door swinging shut behind me. The spray grew warm and misty, rolling into my tangled hair, running in thin rivulets down my back. I sat there, the anxiety of the nest going numb and quiet until my hair was fully soaked.

A light went on in the bathroom, footsteps scuffing, and I huddled under the water, stiff and staring at the fogged glass.

“Lola?”

Matthieu.

“I-in here,” I said, voice weak.

The glass door cracked behind my back, and a moment later Matthieu was inside the stall with me. He knelt, arms scooping around my back and under my knees, pulling me onto his lap. One hand reached up to push my hair out of my eyes, and I stared up at him. There was a pillow crease on his cheek, and he was wearing soft cotton pants that were rapidly growing soaked.

“What’s wrong?” Matthieu asked, shifting me in his lap.

I glanced down and frowned. “Matthieu, why are you in the shower with your pajama pants on?”

“Because I saw you curled up on the tile. What’s happened?”

I gaped at him and shook my head. “Nothing. Not nothing, I just…woke up and felt, I dunno, edgy, I guess. Overwhelmed.”

Matthieu sighed and nodded, relaxing around me and snuggling me close, pressing his lips to my forehead.

“Are you sore? Weak?”

“A little sore. Mostly weak. I was working up the energy to wash off.”

He leaned back, stretching across the space of the stall so his feet rested against one wall and his back against the other. The water ran over us both, soaking the fabric of his pants, and into his hair. He had gray curls over his chest and my fingers studied them greedily, thoughts clearing as the water rinsed away a whole collection of scents, giving me room to breathe in my own head.

Matthieu’s hands smoothed from my shoulders, over my breasts and around my waist, down to my hips, massaging there gently as I sighed and softened into his chest. The ache of my muscles after so much fucking made me groan and close my eyes. There was a brief flare of Matthieu’s scent, but he kept his touch caring rather than stimulating and it felt too good to pull away.

“Let me help?”

I nodded immediately. Matthieu bundled me up again and then stood by some massive feat of strength and balance, holding me to his chest and tipping my head back for water to run through my hair.

“Head to toe?” he asked.

“Please,” I whispered.

I don’t know how he did it, holding me up and reaching for bottles. I braced myself against his shoulders sometimes, or rested my head on his chest as he scrubbed shampoo in my hair. He was tender and thorough and kind. Occasionally his lips would brush my cheek or my shoulder, once even my knees, but never more than briefly.

Any other moment, and I might’ve dragged him against me and begged for sex, but I meant what I said. I was sore, I was weak, I wasn’t in pain, but I was well and truly done for the night if not longer. Matthieu seemed to understand. Even as he cleaned between my legs, his touch was careful, efficient, and gentle.

I sighed as the suds ran down my body, Matthieu finished with his task and simply holding me under the water.

“Better?”

I nodded.

“Still anxious?”

The man was a little too good at reading me. “I don’t think so. Maybe after some sleep I will be, but I think I’m too tired for it right now.”

He hummed in agreement, and the water shut off. “Let’s get dried off and into bed. Do you want company or privacy?”

“Company.”

He picked me up, arms around my hips, and carried me out of the shower, shaking his pants down his hips and leaving them in the stall. There was a small closet just to the left of the stall, and Matthieu pulled out what had to be a full-sized bed version of a fluffy cotton towel, wrapping it around us both like a cloak. It was warm too. The closet was heated.

Fucking rich people and their amazing toys.

“Thank you,” I said, my arms around Matthieu’s shoulders.

He smiled and lifted his chin to me, and I dipped my head to kiss him briefly.

“Even your lips are swollen, Lolotte,” he murmured. “Time to rest. Are you hungry? I can get us a midnight snack.”

He carried me across the hall and into the bedroom he’d said was Leo’s. It smelled clean, but not in a Leo way, and I figured Leo had probably been in the nest for most of the visit anyway.

“A little hungry,” I admitted.

Matthieu set me down on the bed, gave me a quick rub down with the towel, and then whipped the covers back, watching me slide in.

“Wait here. I’ll be back with something to tide you over until breakfast.”

I hummed and pulled the covers up over my bare skin, the mattress soft and giving beneath me. I smiled at Matthieu’s back, the towel wrapped around his body like a toga, and then my eyes fell shut. I never even woke up for the snack.