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“I love when you wear those.”
It’s innocuous and innocent, sighed over the rim of Julian’s tea cup before he takes a sip. The look in his eyes makes it more. He isn’t wearing his eye patch, at her request. Both eyes are lidded, wet gray eyes sparkling at her from red and white sclera. The heat in them makes Nadia tilt her chin up to appraise him.
Julian seems dainty, draped in one of Nadia’s silk robes with the tie nearly undone. The pastel color watches out his skin, paling him into looking as exhausted as he often is. Nadia likes it, seeing him like this. The aura of ethereality about him, despite the fact she'd be happier if he looked rested, is enchanting. Relaxed and sweet and content suits him, though it isn’t obvious looking at the worn lines of his face. He’s beautiful, just awoken and blinking sleep away in the late morning sun. Like the petal of a soft, white lily flecked with dew. Nadia is tempted to take him to bed, equally split between wanting him to rest or more.
As it is, he’s fucked out still from the round he’d coaxed when she awoke him to invite him on her morning horse ride. She isn’t quite certain whether he’d slept after she left, but he insists on slouching across from her to drink tea, now. His hair looks dreadfully dark, as do the circles bordering his eyes. Grease built up over night, and sweat from their morning exercise, weighs his bangs into his eyes. She should convince him to take a bath as well.
Nadia blinks, then once more, as she glances down to her riding boots. She had taken the short walk to the stables herself as the sun rose this morning, and it’s apparent. The bottoms and sides are caked with mud and debris. They need to be cleaned, more thoroughly than the swift scrubbing she used to allow her back inside her rooms. Nadia peeks at Julian, and watches as his hands twitch in his lap. The tea cup is on the table, near empty, and he looks like he’d love to drop to his knees before her.
“Would you like to help me clean them?”
That’s not what Nadia meant to say. It reveals too much about her own thoughts at the moment, and it’s never advisable to jump into anything resembling a scene with Julian. They’ve never done play resembling subservience before, and that is clearly what this would be. Julian does love taking care of her when she allows it, what with how she praises him for a job well done. Taking care of someone relaxes him, and he clearly needs it at the moment.
“May I?” he says, pleads really, while looking at her through thick, auburn lashes.
Nadia nods, weak to his wishes and her own wants. She does love the image of him on his knees, entirely too much not to let him be there when he begs. She’ll keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t push his already tired body too much.
Julian wastes no time. He jumps to his feet, striding to her bureau with the hemline of her robe handing just past his ass. The fabric shifts on his shoulder, and she can see the deep bruising of the marks she left this morning. Nadia clenches her thighs together, counting the marks left along his shoulder blade.
He retrieves a short stool and basin of water kept to the side of her vanity. As he returns he drifts down to his knees before her. The collar gapes as he adjusts his tools, pink nipples winking out at her. Tension rises as Julian gazes up at her, adoration brimming his eyes while he takes her in. Nadia tilts her head, breaking the silence with a soft hum. She dips down, taking his lips in a kiss. They part under her, dewy and soft. Julian blinks as she settles back. She lifts one foot onto the stool, nudging his thigh on the way and he remembers his task.
The water bowl sits to his side. He takes the soft rag that’s hung over the side. He submerges the cloth, and wrings the water from it twice. He glances bashfully at her before turning to her boot. One hand delicately cups the back of her ankle. With slow, short strokes Julian begins cleaning the first boot. He clears the med first, then the dust further up, until the water is cloudy with silt. He hesitates when Nadia switches feet. His eyes slide between the murky water and the boot itself. The rag clenches in his fist, and he takes his lip between his teeth as he thinks. Nadia smiles down at him. She chuckles when he decides to dip the rag and wrings it out again to test the water. The rag is no cleaner, and Julian worries his lip more.
Nadia rings the bell at the table. There’s only a moment before Vincenze enters with a tray. He begins clearing the table, and once all the dishes have been gathered, Nadia speaks.
“Thank you, Vince. If you could bring another rag and a bowl of clean water as well, that’d be lovely.”
“Right away, Countess.”
He exits with a wide smile at Nadia. His eyes brush over Julian, perfunctory but not lingering. Julian keeps his eyes down until the servant has left. Once the door is shut behind him, Nadia’s fingers tuck under his chin. She tips his head back to meet his eyes, and her eyes settle on him as if she’d never want to look elsewhere. Julian fidgets with the rag still clenched between his fingers, bashful under her attention. He straightens his back, long legs tucked under him. His shoulders are relaxed back even as he stretches up to show off under her gaze. Nadia’s other hand threads into Julian’s hair, raking his bands out of his eyes. She blesses her past self for giving Julian the comfort to reveal himself so thoroughly in her rooms. For asking him not to only when she was certain he would say yes, for himself. She basks in how pretty he is, with his high cheekbones and aquiline nose and the beseeching glaze to his eyes as he stares up at her.
“Thank you,” Nadia says, though it is unclear whether she is referring to Julian or Vincenze, who has shouldered the door open. He nods his head as he sets the tray, which has a clean bowl of water as well as the leather care tool kit from Nadia’s dressing room. Once Vincenze has retrieved the dirtied rag and water, leaving at Nadia’s assent, Julian hops to.
He takes the clean rag, and dips his head to continue his task. Nadia picks through the supplies with her free hand, sectioning out what they’ll need. She pets Julian with the other, fingers combing the few tangles from his curls. Julian sighs, and sags a bit in her hold, though his hands keep up their meticulous work. Nadia glances down and perks in slight surprise when she sees Julian’s cock, slick and reddened, peeking out from the part in the fold of the robe.
Nadia shifts her clean boot, and without disrupting Julian’s work, plants it in his lap. The ball of her foot cuts into the layer of softness in his thighs as she nudges the toe into the underside of his cock. The leather is smooth and soft, damp from being cleaned so thoroughly. Julian’s lips part as he swallows, audibly. His forehead falls to meet her knee, and Nadia coos down at him.
“Do you need a break, dear?”
“No, ma’am.” Julian shakes his head, but has to take a moment to gather himself.
He makes quick work of finishing up the ends of the boot in his hands. It gleams with a dull shine, and Julian leans in to press a kiss to the inside of Nadia’s knee. His eyes dart up to her, and Nadia smiles. She nudges him a little harder, and his knees part easily for her. She gets the toe of her boot under his balls, and Julian moans, all breath and softness. He angles his hips down to thrust against her boot. Nadia lets him for a while, observing how his hips hitch with his panting breaths against the curve of her knee. She tugs his hair to catch his attention. Her gaze is appropriately reprimanding, though delight lightens her aura.
“That’s not cleaning them very well, now is it?”
“I— No, ma’am.”
“Well, why don’t you fix the mess you’ve made, and after that you’ll shine them. We can see about a reward when you finish that. How does that sound?”
“Very good, Countess.”
“Tell me your watch word, dear?”
Julian looks surprised, but doesn’t hesitate, “Pumpkin.”
“And you’ll use that if…?”
“I need to stop.”
“You may begin.” Nadia leans back into the chair. Julian pulls back with her, turning to wet the rag.
She likes this. It’s not distant like when a servant cleans them for her. It’s intimate, and it’s easy work for Julian. He’s enjoying it, and the glaze in his eyes tells her she’s got him lower than usual. She’ll happily tramp through the mud if letting him take care of her causes him to slide so easy like this. Lets him finally let go properly into a drop or get close enough to it for catharsis.