29. Lissa
Lissa
Felicity is beautiful. She’s also intimidatingly tall, which makes me nervous.
Oliver doesn’t take his eyes off me as I lie down on the table, a towel over my body, but I watch him carefully, jealousy riding high.
The feeling of betrayal when I walked in and saw another woman beside him was shocking in its intensity. Try as I might, I couldn’t hide it from him. It’s clear what he says was true; this is for me and me alone, but I still don’t like it.
Why does he need someone else in the room? Why can’t it just be us?
I’m stiff and irritated as Felicity oils up her hands and starts to massage my shoulders. It feels good, and the smell of the oils and the gentle playlist she’s put on is soothing, but I can’t get out of my own head.
Oliver is sitting opposite us. I did consider sending him away, but for some reason, I didn’t like the idea of being alone with her. It’s nothing to do with Felicity; she’s clearly a professional and very experienced, but I didn’t want him to leave.
Now I wish I had sent him away. He’s watching us with an intensity that sends pleasure shooting through my body.
Felicity’s hands move over my shoulders gently at first, but her thumb finds a knot of muscle on my right shoulder and digs into it as my eyes close.
Damn, that feels good.
When I open them again as she moves down my back, Oliver is watching her hands move over my body. I can see the bulge in his pants that shows me just how much he’s enjoying the view.
Slowly, I begin to relax. Felicity’s hands are moving over my waist, getting deeper into the tissue there. I had no idea how stiff my body was until she began to release some of the tension.
The past few weeks have been so stressful, and I didn’t know I was carrying all this tightness.
“Is the pressure okay?” Felicity’s voice is gentle and soft with a hint of an accent that I can’t place. I nod my head. “I’m going to move down to your legs now, try to focus on your breathing and the music. Just sink into the table.”
I take a deep breath and feel some of the anxiety bleed out of me.
I want Oliver closer, craving his hands on me too, but I’m too shy to ask.
As her firm fingers move over the stiff muscles in my legs and up just shy of the top of my thigh, I can feel a wetness between my legs begin to build.
Something about being touched in front of Oliver, by another woman, no matter how innocent the massage is, is strangely erotic.
I swallow, shifting on the table, and Felicity’s hands pause, just for a fraction of a second, before she continues.
“Would you like me to work on your glutes?”
I nod, unable to speak, and her hands move over my ass, digging into the muscle there.
Oliver shifts in his seat, his hand moving subtly down to his pants, tugging at them.
Can Felicity see how hard he is? What is she even thinking about all this?
Discreetly, I watch him adjust himself, and when he looks back up, our eyes lock and hold.
I have no idea if Felicity can feel the rising tension in the room, but I feel like I’m radiating want out of every pore.
I need Oliver beside me. I want him to get rid of her and come and fuck me on this table.
I groan as Felicity pushes against my ass into a particularly knotted muscle.
The massage continues for a seemingly endless amount of time. It feels wonderful, but I’m wishing Oliver was the one with his hands on me right now.
My mind conjures images of him pulling out his cock while Felicity watches, pushing it into my mouth, and telling me what a good girl I am for him.
“It’s time to turn over, Lissa.”
She lifts the towel and looks away as I flip over. That’s better. I can’t see Oliver any longer, and I can only pray she can’t tell how turned on I am.
This has to be weird for her, right?
I huff out a breath as she digs into my chest muscles, across my collarbone and my neck. I hold a lot of tension in my neck, and it feels divine to have it begin to loosen.
Without looking at Oliver, I can relax a little more, but I’m still aware he’s watching me.
I open my eyes as Felicity’s hands move away. She steps back, her eyes on Oliver as she gives a quick smile, rubbing the oil from her hands with a towel.
“Thank you,” Oliver says, his voice deep and calm as I’m falling to pieces on this table. “Could you give us a few minutes, and we’ll let you know when we’re ready.”
“Of course.”
He stands, handing her something that looks like a roll of dollar bills, and puts his hands in his pockets, watching her leave the room. I’m lying on the table, a towel the only thing keeping me from being completely naked.
He walks over, as if in slow motion, his eyes on my body, his cock straining in his pants.
I open my legs automatically, huffing out a long sigh, my hips beginning to push into the table, wantonly, desperately. I should be ashamed, but with Oliver watching me, I just feel sexy and beautiful.
His hand touches my throat, and I groan, the rush of having him finally beside me overwhelming.
“Are you wet for me, Lissa?” he murmurs, and I widen my legs as his lips twitch up into a satisfied smirk. “So desperate for my cock…”
His hand moves upward, covering the front of my neck with the perfect amount of pressure, squeezing lightly.
“Is this good?”
I nod, trying to convey without words how much I want him to continue.
“I want you to suck me off. Will you do that for me, Lissa?” he says, and I nod as he unbuckles his belt, pulling out his cock and cradling my head with his hand.
“You’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, as I move to the edge of the table and open my mouth. He pushes his cock all the way to the back of my throat in one motion.
His hand slides down over my body, ripping the towel away, his fingers now slick with oil over my stomach and down between my legs, curling inside me effortlessly as he makes a grunt of satisfaction.
“You’re dripping for me,” I can’t help but moan around his cock. “Open your legs wider.”
As I do it, he pushes two fingers in, and I lift my ass from the table, as he begins to drive his cock into my mouth with hard thrusts.
The next few minutes are just moans, cursing, and wet, slick sounds of pleasure that should embarrass me, but I’m beyond turned on now.
I imagine Felicity walking back in to collect her things and just standing dumbfounded in the doorway as Oliver hammers into my throat, his fingers deep inside me.
A third finger slides in, and I pull off his cock as he moves back, bending down to bite at my nipple, a hand clamping over my mouth as I moan too loudly.
Can she hear us?
He nips at my breasts, licking at them, the oil still slick over my skin, his fingers ramming home relentlessly before he rises, walking to the end of the table and taking hold of my thighs.
“You will be silent,” he says, the command a snap in the quiet room, and harsher than he’s ever been with me before. I love it. The control in his eyes. I don’t have to think, just obey.
He rolls on a condom before his huge cock pushes against my entrance as he pushes his hips forward. He’s filling me to the hilt as I grip the edges of the table, biting my lip to keep from screaming.
So fucking good.
He leans forward, bracing himself on the table, rocking his hips against me at first and then standing back up, taking hold of my legs and yanking my ass off the table, thrusting into me, his eyes never leaving my face.
The massage has us both beyond worked up, and I can already tell he’s close, even as I feel my own orgasm building.
He slaps my ass just once, and I give in to the orgasm completely, clenching down on his dick and arching off the table, as he sighs, going still, his eyes closed, face turned upward to the ceiling as his cock twitches deep inside me.
“Next time I’m going to fill you up and watch my cum spill out of you, Lissa. Is that clear?” he growls, leaning over the table toward me.
I nod, shuddering as he continues thrusting, thumbing my clit to make me writhe as he gives a low chuckle as I spasm again, almost coming twice in the space of thirty seconds.
I collapse back onto the table, panting heavily, as Oliver pulls out of me, losing the condom and throwing it in the trash.
He pulls off his jacket and tie, a thin film of sweat on his forehead from the exertion, then moves around to the edge of the table, his arms going beneath me as he lifts me and takes me into the bathroom, putting me gently on my feet.
“Give me five minutes, and then come back in.”
Then he’s gone. I take the chance to clean up a little, but it isn’t long before the door opens again and Oliver returns, tugging me into the main office, walking steadily over to the chair where he sits down.
I’m still naked as he tugs me against him, pulling me into his lap and cradling me in his arms.
The massage table and Felicity are gone, and it’s very quiet in the room.
I settle gently into his side, curling up like a baby in his arms. My hand has fallen behind his body and is trapped between his back and the cushion of the chair.
As I settle more deeply into him, my fingers move up, intending to pull my arm free, but by accident, they go beneath the fabric of his shirt. It’s a second, no more, but I feel a ribbed quality to his skin, like stripes down his back, long and protruding above the natural line of his skin.
Oliver stiffens immediately, and I try to snatch my hand away, but it’s trapped. The euphoria fades instantly.
“I’m sorry, that was accidental,” I try to explain as my voice wavers. I wonder if he’s just going to drop me on the floor and tell me to get out.
I drag my hand away, but he doesn’t let go; if anything, his arms are tighter around me than they were. He’s staring ahead of him, expression grim, and I watch him for a long time, feeling stricken.
“I’m so sorry,” I manage. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s alright,” he says, his voice thick.
“Is that why you always keep your shirt on?”
“Yes.”
I press against him as he tightens his hold. “I understand,” I say softly. “I’d never ask you to show me something you don’t want to.”
His hold loosens a little, and my heart clenches as he places a gentle kiss against my temple.
“One day, maybe.”
I say nothing in response; the promise in his words making me hopeful for things that can never be. I curl my fingers around the edge of his shirt as we stay like that for a long time.
When I’m finally ready to get up, it’s past six, the time having flown by. I need to get out of here and get to the hospital.
Neither of us speaks as we get dressed. I wish I had time for a shower since I’m covered in oil, but at least my skin feels soft and smooth as I pull my shirt around me. When we’re both fully clothed, he looks at me quizzically for a long moment.
“Was that alright? You weren’t scared or uncomfortable?” he asks.
“It was wonderful,” I say. “Unexpected and wonderful.”
“How would you feel about not using condoms in the future? I can speak to Sterling House about it, but only if you’re okay with it.”
I consider that, knowing the policy from the agency’s perspective. He’d have to get tested for everything, as would I.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” I say, knowing that’s a huge understatement.
A deep look of satisfaction moves over his face again, and I smile at him. That terrible, tiny flame of hope I’ve tried to extinguish so many times is burning brighter by the second.
I look into those gorgeous, dark eyes and try to hide the desperation in my heart to truly know him, and for him to know me, too.