!!!.: 18+ ONLY! SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD:.!!!
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August was right. It wasn't long before the snow began to fall, and once it started, it never seemed to stop.
"This place is like an icebox." I said, pulling my thick, fur lined coat around me tightly.
"Shall I make you some tea, dearest?" He said, as he prodded the logs in the fireplace.
"Tea sounds nice." I replied, smiling back at him.
"I think I'd like a hot bath...would you bring it to me, sweetheart?" I asked.
"Of course, whatever you want, pet." He answered.
The electricity didn't work in some areas of the house, so most of the time, we used candles to light our way.
Thankfully, the water heater seemed to be working just fine. I found myself in the tub more often than not on these bone chilling nights.
Something about the tub comforted me in a way that bathing rarely ever did before.
It didn't take long for me to get used to the old house.
The clanking of the pipes, the way it seemed to breathe as if it were a living thing.
I placed my hand under the hot water as it ran, relieving the chill in my aching fingers. As I let my silk robe slip from my shoulders and down my back, I felt uneasy. I felt as if someone was watching me.
Ridiculous as it sounds, the uneasiness I felt was paired with an equally strong feeling of excitement.
I don't know what came over me, I'm not what one would call a sensual woman.
I let the robe slip over my bare bottom and onto the floor, as the sudden chill in the room prompted me to hurry into the bath.
The tub was deep, so deep that the tops of my breasts barley peeked over the surface of the bubbly water.
I laid back, letting the warmth melt away any traces of cold on my skin. It felt amazing.
I dunked my head under, letting my short brown hair soak in the floral scented suds.
As hard as I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched from my mind, but instead of being frightened, I pretended to put on a show for my imaginary audience.
I lifted my leg out of the water, and ran the bar of soap slowly along my calf. As I did so, I felt a tickling sensation on my skin, like tiny electrical pulses trailing lightly behind wherever I placed the soap.
I thought it odd at first, but brushed it off, thinking it must've been my imagination.
I glided the soap down my other leg and up to my inner thigh. The pulsating feeling seemed to grow stronger with my arousal.
I clasped the soap between my palms, spinning it so that my hands were filled with delicate foamy suds. I started with my neck, working the soap in with soft circular motions.
The strange sensation became a little stronger as I focused on the areas where I wanted to feel it most. It felt dirty, like I was doing something wrong, but in that moment, I really didn't care.
I moved my hands down my body, gently cupping my breasts in my palms. As I massaged them, the strange sensation began to linger.
Instead of light electric-like pulses, they became deep, lustful throbs.
I began to lose all sense of myself as my fingers glided down, past my belly button, and tangling in my pubic hair.
My hands suddenly felt as if they had a mind of their own, as if they weren't even mine at all anymore. They explored my most sensitive areas, as if feeling them for the very first time. I continued gently, but with an eagerness that made me lie back in the tub and gasp for breath.
My fingers slipped inside, insatiably, lustfully.
Pleasing moans escaped my lips as I threw my head back. Every time I was just about to slip off the edge, my hands would knowingly stop, and tease around my throbbing clitoris.
I had no control, not even of my own orgasm. It was thrilling, frightening, I had never been touched this way, not by myself or even by August. I was lost in a sea of sensations, the throbbing currents that enveloped my body became too much to bare, and right as I was being pulled over the edge, a familiar voice whispered longingly in my ear, so close that I could feel the breath cascade across my earlobe.
The sound startled me and pulled me from my fantasies, sending a sharp shiver down my spine.
Just as I looked around, searching for the source, The bathroom door opened, making me jump.
"Oh August!" I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
"Are you alright? I didn't scare you did I?" He asked. Sitting the small cup and saucer by the sink.
"No, no darling. I'm fine." I said, trying to gather myself.
"This house is kinda creepy isn't it? It makes all kinds of moans and groans." He chuckled, Handing me the little saucer.
"Yeah..." I giggled, half heartedly.
"Creepy..."
YOU ARE READING
Crimson Lace: A Crimson Peak love story (Thomas Sharpe)
Paranormal*COMPLETED* Sybil McMichael was happy to accompany her husband, August, to the place his grandmother, Edith Sharpe, wrote about in her most famous Novel. Once there, she finds that her husbands intentions were fueled by more than mere childhood curi...
