I stayed under the hot spray of the shower until my fingertips pruned and the ache between my legs dulled to a low, manageable throb. The water washed away layers of sweat, c*m, and the lingering scent of Bane, though I could still catch faint traces of him on my skin no matter how hard I scrubbed. My body felt raw in places I didn’t know could feel raw n*****s stinging under the stream, inner thighs protesting every step but beneath the soreness was this strange, humming satisfaction I couldn’t quite hate.
When I finally stepped out, the steam had fogged the mirror so badly I could only make out blurry shapes of bruises and flushed skin. I wrapped myself in the largest towel I could find, dried myself then dressed quickly in soft black leggings, a fitted long-sleeve thermal in deep fore
