Probably not.
The hands that had been rubbing my shoulders vanish, and I let out a sigh. Has it already been ninety minutes? Damn, that was good. Maybe I should’ve gone for the two-hour session instead.
Soft ambient music drifts through the room. The masseur hasn’t given the usual,“I hope you enjoyed your massage.”Instead, I catch the click of a door closing, followed by the quiet scrape of Keo’s table shifting.
“I may or may not have slipped a few bucks somewhere for an extra thirty minutes.” His voice is low, blending with the hush of the space around us. “Keep your head down, my love.”
Goddamn. Every time he saysmy love,I melt into a puddle.
“As you wish, baby.”
His warm fingers trace down my spine, lingering across the scar before finding the edge of the towel. Now I understand why he insisted we strip down completely, boxers and all. Because the moment he reaches that spot, he tugs away the only fabric left between us.
“Fucking hell.” The raw need in his voice sends goosebumps racing across my skin. “I’m supposed to be finishing your massage, but I’m a weak man.”
“You just had a woman walking on your back.Weakis the last word I’d use to describe you.” I raise my voice just enough for him to hear.
He must, because his response comes as a sharp smack across my ass. My head snaps back, and I start to sit up, but his hand presses firmly against my shoulder. “Just a love tap, sunshine.” His palm lingers, rubbing the spot he struck, fingers teasing dangerously close to where I ache for him to fill.
Then he moves away, circling to my other side. I watch as he picks up a candle, and my heartbeat quickens when his eyes meet mine.
“Safe word?”
I nod. “Fire.”
As he steps closer to the table, my gaze drops, and there it is. His cock, thick and throbbing, veins straining with the force of his arousal.
The moment I lick my lips, a sudden drip of warm wax trickles onto my back, making me jolt. The sting melts instantly into pleasure, and my whole body trembles. He’s done this once before, but only as a test—just a drop on my arm. That time, he’d been buried deep inside me, and I swear the sensation had burned twice as hot.
Now, the wax trails lower—down my ass, along my thigh—and I groan at the sheer rush of it.
“I love watching your body respond to everything I do,” he murmurs. “That’s why my favorite position is you riding me.”
His free hand smooths over the wax, spreading it across my skin, and the pressure of his fingers massaging it in rips a moan straight from my chest—especially when he digs into the muscle beneath.
“Or on your back, eyes always on me.” His tone is a purr, and the pressure of my cock grinding against the table is almost painful.
The heat returns as wax drips across my ass, then trails back up toward my shoulders.
“Keo…” I pant, fingers clawing into the blanket beneath me.
He steps away, only long enough to say, “Turn over.”
There’s no hesitation, I flip onto my back so fast it almost makes him laugh. By the time I’m settled, he’s already there, a small bottle in hand. I knowthatoil.
“You really planned this out, didn’t you?”
He gives a casual shrug. “I do try.”
“And you succeed—” My words break into a gasp as he drizzles the sex oil across my stomach, the same one we’d picked out together weeks ago. It shocks cold on contact, then blooms into heat as it spreads—especially when he drags it straight over my throbbing cock.
He sets the bottle aside and begins to work it in with his hands, rubbing the slick warmth into my skin. I can’t stop the noises spilling from me, each one pulling a low groan from his throat.
“Keo… what if someone walks in?”
His grin makes my chest tighten. “And how does that make you feel? Knowing someone could step inside and see me worshipping the man I love?”
Heat floods my face, nerves and excitement tangling together. We’ve never hidden our relationship, but this—this is slightly dangerous. Definitely inappropriate. And yet the thought of being caught, of showing the world how little we care what anyone thinks, makes me ache for him to keep going.
