The longer he went without speaking, the more nervous tension built inside Dillon's chest. She could see the arousal naked on his face, the flush of heat on his cheeks, and the obvious monster attempting to burst free from his jeans, but had she crossed some kind of line? Maybe she hadn’t done it right.
Before she could really get on a roll with thoughts of how she might have messed up, Nasa set the rock on the counter to his left, then reached down to cup her cheek. Her skin must have been cool because his palm felt scalding hot.
He brushed his thumb back and forth across her skin; the gentleness in his touch, wiped away her uncertainty like steam from the surface of a mirror.
“What are you doing?” His voice cut through the silence like the strike of a mallet to a gong.
Relaxation trickled down from where he touched her face, all the way to the soles of her feet. She felt confident in having made the right decision, because the look in his eyes was everything Dillon hadn't known she needed.
“I decided in the bathroom that you're bending over backward to make sure I have everything I need, and I want to try and give back something that's part of what you need.”
“How does it feel?” he rasped, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.
Dillon breathed through the arousal tying her belly in knots, turning her cheek into his hand. “I feel calm. I'm not sure if I'm doing it right, and the roller coaster adrenaline is still there, but it doesn't feel wrong. Am I supposed to call you Sir?”
Heat flared in his gaze, but he said, “No. We haven't talked about that yet, but the rule is you call me what I deserve. Come up here and let me kiss you.”
Nasa reached down to help her up, and the feeling of kissing him while completely naked was an experience she'd never forget.
The leather of his cut felt cool and smooth against her breasts, but every shift of his body against hers made her nipples brush up against his club patches. A firm scratch followed by a slick slide.
The metal of his NASA embossed belt buckle was like the press of a stethoscope, cold against her stomach, quick to warm.
His jeans rasped against her legs, and beneath the denim, she felt the unmistakably hard pole of his cock pressed tight against her, throbbing in time to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
With Dillon's arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, their lips dueling passionately, Nasa's hands were free to roam across her back.
She held her breath at the scrape of her scars against his palms, stunned by how sensitive she was to his touch.
He didn't hesitate or give her feather light touches, and for a moment Dillon completely forgot she didn't have smooth, unmarred skin.
When she shuddered, Nasa murmured a soft, animalistic sound as he gently raked his teeth over her bottom lip, his fingertips dancing over a long stripe across her left ass cheek.
Never in her life had Dillon ever considered that a raised, six-inch-long scar could possibly be an erogenous zone, but the way Nasa's fingers whispered up and down the length of it made chills race across her skin, lighting her up to the point where she could feel the arousal seeping from her pussy and down her inner thighs.
He drew away with a soft hiss, giving her butt a healthy squeeze. “Belly down, under the covers before I forget why we came up here.”
Dizzy and buzzing with desire, Dillon was glad for the arm Nasa wrapped around her waist. He helped her the few feet to the table, lifting the edge of the blanket for her to lay down. She couldn't help but moan in bliss when she felt the toasty warmth of the linens.
“Is there a heater in the table or something?”
“Mmhm. Feel good?” When the table moved beneath her, Nasa reassured her that it was hydraulic and meant to go up and down to suit the person giving the massage.
Dillon turned her head, very clearly able to see his reflection in the mirrors. “So good.”
Nasa pulled the sheets up and folded them across her shoulders, running his palm flat along her spine. The weight of the blankets, the heat of the table, and the firm stroke of his hand caused Dillon to melt into the table.
The arousal lingered, but relaxation stole through her, and she silently gave herself a cheer for having been brave enough to take this step. It felt amazing.
In the darkened room, there was no sense of time. No sounds except the barely audible music, a random snore from somewhere beneath her that said Elka opted to take a nap, and the rustle of Nasa's clothes as he moved around her.
Head turned to the side; Dillon watched him in the mirrors and not because she was uncomfortable or uneasy.
She watched him because he had this look of contentment and concentration on his face that enthralled her. He didn't speak other than to ask if she was alright, and the expression of his enjoyment never wavered.
When he finished with her back, Dillon rolled over at his instruction, staring up at the sparkle of light through the perforated metal.
As he got to work massaging her arms and legs again, Dillon sank into the realization she hadn't felt unsafe or vulnerable, and she hadn't once thought about the fastest way to escape the room should something go wrong.
Dillon hadn't fought or felt the need to overthink the many reasons why she needed to remain hyperaware. Her brain simply decided Nasa was in control, therefore nothing bad would happen to her.
After an extremely thorough massage of her shoulders, Nasa slid his hand under her skull and lifted up to tuck a hot, steamy towel beneath her neck.
Almost instantly,
