He closed the door behind us, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. He handed me the floral dress, its delicate white fabric dotted with small black flowers and a zipper running down the back.
''Wear this,'' he said gently, his voice warm and reassuring, laced with that quiet concern that made my chest tighten.
I took it from him, my fingers brushing his, a spark of heat jumping between us despite the ache throbbing deep in my core. ''Can you turn around so I can get dressed?''
''Huh? Ah, okay,'' he replied, turning away without hesitation, his broad back a solid wall of trust in the dim light.
I peeled off the blanket he'd wrapped around my naked body earlier, the cool air kissing my bare skin like a lover's breath, hardening my nipples into tight peaks that begged for touch.
My pussy, still raw and swollen from the injury, pulsed with a dull fire, my clit engorged and hypersensitive, every shift sending jolts of mingled pain and forbidden want through me.
The dress was light and airy, whispering over my head as I sat on the bed's edge, the fabric teasing my sensitized skin. I tugged it down to cover my chest, but the zipper at the back mocked me out of reach, taunting my limited mobility.
I stood up slowly, legs trembling, forcing them to bear my weight as a sharp, burning throb ignited in my injured pussy.
It clawed deep inside, sapping strength from my thighs, making me sway like a leaf in a storm. My swollen clit rubbed against my slick folds with the movement, a wicked mix of agony and arousal coiling low in my belly.
''Ahh... aah,'' I gasped, knees buckling, the world tilting as vulnerability crashed over me.
He spun around immediately, already in his pants that hugged his hips just right, and rushed to my side.
His strong arms caught me mid-fall, pulling me against his chest. ''Hold on to me,'' he urged, voice rough with worry, and I gripped his broad shoulder, feeling the heat of his body seep through his shirt, grounding me in his solid warmth.
He steadied me, hands gliding over the dress to smooth it along my curves, fingers tracing the dip of my waist with a tenderness that made my breath hitch. No bra, no panties the ones from our bath were ruined, soaked and discarded after he'd peeled them from my wet, trembling skin with touches that lingered, exploring just enough to stoke the embers of desire beneath the pain.
Now, the thin fabric clung to my bare breasts, nipples straining visibly against it, and the hem skimmed my thighs, leaving my pussy exposed to the whisper of air, my swollen clit aching with every subtle shift.
He noticed, eyes dropping for a heated second, a flush crawling up his neck as his gaze darkened with unspoken hunger.
He pulled something from his pocket, but paused, voice dropping low. ''Don't you have extra underwear? Panties and a bra?''
''Yes... in the drawer,'' I murmured, voice shaky from the relentless throb in my pussy and the electric intimacy humming between us.
''No problem,'' he said, already on his phone, murmuring quick instructions to someone on the other end.
Then he guided me back to the bed, hands firm on my hips, easing me down with a care that made my heart stutter. His fingers pressed just enough to send a shiver racing up my spine.
He rummaged through the drawers with efficient grace, like he belonged in my space. ''Oh, here they are.'' He held out a matching set black, red, white and selected the white ones, the lace-trimmed panties and bra promising soft temptation.
I shrugged the dress off my shoulders, letting it pool at my waist, baring my full breasts to the cool air.
Nipples stiffened further, aching for relief, the vulnerability of the moment twisting with a raw, needy heat.
I fumbled with the bra, hooks slipping in my shaky grasp, but he stepped closer, his presence enveloping me.
''Let me help.'' His fingers brushed my back, warm and sure, fastening the clasp with deliberate slowness. His breath ghosted over my neck, hot and ragged, sending a shiver straight to my core.
My pussy clenched involuntarily, the swollen clit pulsing with a sharp sting that blurred into slick arousal, juices gathering despite the hurt.
Then the panties. I tried to slide them on, but parting my legs unleashed agony the wound in my pussy shaft throbbed viciously, my clit swelling thicker, longer in its tortured state, hypersensitive to the air alone.
Every motion electrified it, pain lancing through like lightning, yet stirring a deep, insistent wetness that betrayed my body's cravings.
He saw my struggle, eyes softening with empathy and something fiercer. Kneeling before me, he took the panties from my trembling hands. ''Let me do it for you.''
I didn't protest, words failed me, lost in the haze of pain and his nearness. His touch was feather-light as he lifted my left leg, sliding the soft cotton up my calf, over my knee, fingers grazing the velvet skin of my inner thigh.
My pussy lips quivered at the proximity, a forbidden warmth blooming even as fresh pain ripped through my groin, my clit throbbing against the promise of contact.
He mirrored the motion on my right leg, pulling them to my knees, then urged me to stand. ''Just hold on to me.''
I clutched his shoulders, body pressing flush against his chest, the hard ridges of his muscles flexing under my palms, his scent clean, masculine filling my lungs.
He tugged the panties higher, knuckles skimming the swell of my ass, adjusting with a gentle tug that settled the fabric against my hips. It cupped my mound snugly, the cotton kissing my slick folds, pressing lightly on my swollen clit.
I bit my lip hard, a soft whimper slipping out as the pressure ignited sparks pain twisting into a juicy ache of arousal, my pussy weeping with need.
His hands lingered a beat too long, thumbs circling my waist in soothing strokes that only heightened the tension.
He smoothed the dress back down, palms gliding over my hips, then draped a loose sweatshirt over it all, enveloping me in its warmth. ''Come on, let's go see your mom.''