Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lily
The pain is a familiar, unwelcome visitor in my body—a deep, throbbing ache radiating from my pelvis and my muscles so tight I can barely move. Endometriosis has been my constant companion for years, but today’s flare is particularly vicious. I lie on my back but keep the towel covering my body.
“I’m bleeding,” I remind him, embarrassed.
“It’s just blood,” Killian replies without looking at me. “Besides, I’m already covered in it anyway.”
“It’s going to get everywhere.” The words are forced through my mouth as I fight through the pain.
“No need to be embarrassed. I think we are past that.”
My eyes shoot open, and I glare at him but say nothing. My cheeks flush. He gets off the bed and moves quietly around the room. I notice he has a bottle of lotion as he approaches the bed again.
“I didn’t take you as the type of guy who likes to moisturize,” I comment.
A smirk crosses his face. “There are other things you can use it for.”
The realization dawns on me. “Ew, I don’t want you to use that on me.” I shift with a wince, the movement sending fresh waves of pain through my abdomen.
“Just shut up.” Killian pumps some onto his hand. “You’ll thank me later.”
“So, when you’re not torturing people, you’re a masseur?”
His hands are warm when they first make contact with my stomach, the lotion smooth against my skin. He begins with broad, sweeping strokes along my torso, his thumbs pressing into the tight muscles on either side. I breathe deeply, trying to relax into his touch despite the persistent ache.
“I’m going to work on your hips and thighs.” Killian’s voice is low and soothing, his fingers tracing circles right above my pelvis.
The pain seems to shift for a brief moment.
The deep, therapeutic pressure is still there, but now it’s accompanied by an undercurrent of something else—something that makes my skin tingle and my breath catch.
As his hands move lower, sliding down my abdomen, I gasp when his thumbs press into each side of my hips, finding knots of tension that make my breath hitch.
He works them methodically, his pressure firm but controlled, easing the tightness that has built up over days of pain.
A quiet moan tries to escape my lips, but I bite my lip to prevent Killian from hearing it.
As his hands travel down my thighs, I feel something shift. Killian’s fingers trace the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, his touch lighter now, almost teasing. My cheeks flush, knowing I’m bleeding even though Killian seems unbothered.
“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice slightly rougher than before.
I make a soft sound of affirmation, pushing back against his hands without consciously deciding to. The pain is still there, but it’s changing shape, blurring at the edges as another sensation begins to rise.
Killian’s hands move higher, his thumbs brushing the junction where my thighs meet my pelvis. My breath hitches again. His touch is deliberate now, no longer purely therapeutic. His fingers trace patterns on my skin, each movement sending sparks of electricity through my body.
I feel myself getting aroused, my body responding to his touch despite the pain that still lingers. It’s a strange contrast—pleasure and pain intertwining until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
Killian shifts position, his knee pressing between my thighs. “Open your legs a little,” he commands softly.
I comply, my body moving instinctively. His hands slide higher, his fingers brushing against my lower lips, and his touch lingers there for a moment before retreating again.
Another moan is caught in my throat. I can’t take my eyes off him, his lean muscles flexing, his eyes scanning my body but avoiding my gaze.
“Have you heard of reiki before?” he asks.
“I think so?” I breathe softly.
His hands hover just above my pelvis without touching. I feel heat radiating from his palms, a deep, penetrating warmth that seems to sink into my bones. The pain is fading now, replaced by a growing ache between my legs.
Killian’s hands move lower, focusing on my pelvis right above my slit. I moan softly, unable to stop the sound from escaping my lips. My hips lift off the bed, seeking more contact.
Holding the towel against my breasts. “Killian,” I breathe, his name a prayer on my lips.
He doesn’t stop. His eyes focus on the area his hands are massaging.
My body trembles with need, the pain completely forgotten now.
I cover my eyes with my forearm. I don’t want it to stop.
My moans grow louder, more desperate. His hands don’t stop; he’s relentless as he keeps steady pressure.
My body tenses, my toes curling as the pressure builds.
I’m so close, hovering on the edge of release.
I can feel his long, thick erection pressing against my thigh through his jeans.
He’s trying to hide it as though trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism, but his body betrays him.
The knowledge that he is aroused too sends another wave of desire through me.
He begins applying more pressure as his hands make their way back to my thighs, focusing each hand on my inner thigh.
His hands brushing around my aching pussy is driving me wild.
And when his thumbs made their way back to my pelvis, they don’t stop at my slit.
Killian begins massaging on and around my aching lips but avoids entering the slit, making my hips buck.
My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing with pleasure.
Killian continues massaging until the end of my orgasm. When it’s over, I collapse against the bed, boneless and breathless. The pain isn’t entirely gone but now overshadows the aftermath of my climax.
Neither of us says a word. He rolls me onto my side, rubbing my lower back until my eyes flutter and I fall asleep.