Mouthwashing X Reader Novels & Stories

********* Thanks so much to everyone who has reached this far in reading my book *wipes tears* I'm so honored that you are loving the book which is why I'm requesting that if you are reading it and loving it, don't forget to leave a vote or a comment. I promise I don't bite *covers my eyes shyly* ********* Her eyes fluttered open, the unfamiliar scent of medicines and ammonia hitting her nostrils. She tried moving opening her mouth but the thing plunged in her mouth like a snorkel prevented her from doing so.

She couldn't effectively wipe the dirt off her body and a toothbrush to clean her mouth. she sighed at the realization but shook it off, the bath was already nice enough so she should be grateful. She used her hand to rub allonge her shoulders down to her breast, feeling how heavy they were. She kept on, rubbing every inch of her body then diving down once more. She just pulled up to the surface and cleaned off the water from her face when Lennox strolled in, barefoot and wearing nothing but his boxers brief.

Ada tells him. "Shower," Mr. X orders with a low growl. Ada tries not to laugh at the human growl. But she turns the shower on and gets in. Mr. X gets in behind her. He grabs the luffa and kneels. He directs Ada's leg to the bench, she lifts. Mr. X gently cleans between her legs. Ada moans as he plays with her clit. He flicks it making her gasp in shock. Ada wasn't prepared when Mr. X latches on her clit and bites into her. Ada leans forward and grabs his head. Mr. X reaches into his mouth and turns on the tongue stud he put in when Oliver left this morning waiting for this moment.

It's still bright red, angry from the wax, but the red is fading already thanks to the miracle lotion she used. Without thinking so much about it, my fingers drift to my clit, massaging it gently. As they do, as I watch myself in the mirror after being molested by the spa esthetician, all I can think about is the way Mr Blackwood will touch them and compliment me yesterday.

It was worth a try, Xenia thought. Jane ushered Xenia out of the bathroom and back into the room, and Xenia stopped in her tracks. Mason was reading a book in the little nook by the window. Shirtless. He stretched with a yawn, and Xenia couldn't help but notice how his taut muscles moved with each stretch. The soft glow from the bedside lamp made his dark skin look smooth and immaculate. He looked up and caught Xenia staring, and a slow smile spread across his face. Xenia looked away in embarrassment.

I have never appreciated the minty taste of a frigging mouthwash before but I did now. I walked out of the bathroom at the same time Raphael was coming to the room with a plate of omelets and orange juice. My stomach protested immediately and I ran for the bathroom as fast as I could and started vomiting so hard that I feared I was going to vomit my intestine along. I was vomiting so hard that I didn't even notice Raphael holding my hair back and tapping my back lightly. My legs gave out the moment I was done vomiting and I would have landed on my ass if Raphael wasn't behind me. He wrapped his hand around my waist and pressed my back to his front so I could lean on him and I did resting my

“Sounds like a weird ad on the internet.” She smiled, though he couldn’t see it, and let her thumbs slide gently behind his ears, kneading the base of his skull. She was careful to keep the water angled away from the bandaged shoulder, reaching across his chest to brace herself lightly as she rinsed the lather with a handheld stream. Suds slid down his neck, trailing across his collarbone and dripping from his chest in slow, lazy streaks. He let out a quiet sound, something in between a sigh and a groan.

I hated looking like a victim. I turned on the brass faucet. The water rushed out, hot and steaming. I grabbed a thick white washcloth from the marble counter, soaked it under the running water, and brought it to my face. I scrubbed hard. Too hard. I dragged the rough cotton over my cheeks, my forehead, my neck, trying desperately to scrub away the smell of the smoke and the lingering echo of that Russian voice mocking me through the ventilation grate. My chest heaved. I gripped the edges of the marble sink so tightly my knuckles turned completely white. I bent my head, staring down at the swirling gray water draining away, trying to pull oxygen into my burning lungs without sobbing aloud.

My toothbrush is in the drawer beside Moon's, and I thoroughly brush my teeth and rinse out my mouth. I'm never drinking again. The water burns my scrapes, but I don't care. I wash from head to toe, including my hair. I feel horrible and that doesn't change as I stand under the water and let it pound down on me. I have no idea how long I remain like this, but I finally realize I'm delaying the inevitable. I leave the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Moon's bathrobe is lying on the bed and I slip it on. He's sitting in a chair across the room when I come out. He's wearing jeans and a black T-shirt.

At least, she believed me. “Ugh. Isn’t that like the storyline of every erotica you read?” She asked, ushering me to her room. “You promised to eat with me. Let’s eat. I hope you washed your hands.” She looked down at my hands with clear disgust. She could be a germaphobe. “They’re dry. Did you wash them?” “Yeah. I washed them a long time ago but just kept standing here reading the book. That’s how interesting it is.” “Let’s go.”