I groan, leaning into her touch. She continues to work my muscles, rising up on tiptoe to focus on painful areas as I melt into her amazing touch. Even my body springs into action, ready for what seems like the hundredth time.
She's swinging into her role of a caretaker - something I never thought I'd like in a woman - and I'm enjoying every minute of it.
"Relax." She whispers the words and moves down my spine, kneading the tension from every inch of me she touches.
"I'm fine," I mumble unconvincingly.
"Let me give you an amateur massage. That will relax you." Her hands slip around my abs as she leans into me, her breasts pressing to my back.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I say, gritting my teeth to stop myself from turning around, picking her up, throwing her on my bed, and burying myself inside her over and over until this ache within me subsides.
"It is. Trust me." she whispers, moving around me until we're face to face with her head tilted back, looking up at me. Her hands slip up to my shoulders, her forearms pressing into my chest as she guides me toward the bed. "Just lay down and I'll rub you until you relax."
But as she pushes me onto the bed, I'm on my back, watching her and curious what she's going to do. I sit up as she stands over me, running her hands form my shoulders down my chest, down my abs, and to my thighs.
Every bit of my body demands I take her here and now, but I hold back, watching her as her gaze locks on my face, her eyes wide and innocent. "First, you have to undress."
Her hands tug my shirt off and she tosses it aside, still watching me as if both daring to stop her and begging me not to.
"And then?" I ask, arching an eyebrow at her. How far is she going to go? More importantly, how long can I hold back?
"And then..." she undoes my pants and reaches in, wrapping her fingers around the hard length of me. She inhales, her eyes widening as a low groan escapes my throat.
"I'm going to give you the best massage ever." Her voice is a mere whisper as she gently tugs me free of my clothing.
"That's what I was looking for. The tension. You need to relax for both our sake. It's hard to be calm around you when you're so clearly riled up." She wraps her hands around my shaft and began to rub, gently at first and then harder as her attention moves to the motion of her hands and the effect on my body.
My fingers comb through her hair as pleasure grips me. I feel her warm breath on me, hear the voice in my head screaming at me to stop her, and sense my body's need to be in her. The warm, velvet sensation of her tongue on the tip of me breaks me out of the spell she's holding me under and I pull back while gently pushing her away.
"Not good?" she asks, her eyes meeting mine again and her breathless voice nearly destroying my self-control.
"Very good, but you need to stop. Now." She'd told me she'd been naked with one guy. One. I'm not going to be her second and break her heart or set mine up to get broken. "You are amazing, but I don't want to hurt you." I take her shoulders and push her back onto her heels with gentle hands.
"I'm not afraid of you, Nathan. And I don't mind if you hurt me." The gleam in her expression tells me she's taking my words the wrong way.
And man, I want to take her with all the rough, pent-up passion raging in me right now.
"I mean I don't want to break your heart. You've been naked with one guy. I'm the second. That's going to mean something, and I don't want to hurt you like that."
She goes still, except her eyes, which study me as if unsure how to respond. "You're worried I'll fall in love with you?"
I nod.
She lifts her shoulders. "Don't worry. That's not going to happen. This is just a job and a favor for a friend. No feelings involved."
I want to be relieved. Instead, her words hit me like a dozen angry hornet stings, each more painful than the last.
She doesn't seem to notice as she leans forward and takes me into her mouth. It's a miracle I'm still ready for her, given that blow to my pride. The overwhelmingly good sensations aren't enough to pull me out of my head and I stop her again.
"I don't want my heart broken either," I say. This time, I stand up and head for the bathroom, hoping a cold shower will ease my body's desperate craving for her to finish what she started.
The cold water doesn't help me relax, so I switch it to warm and grab my pulsing cock.
I imagine Stacia in my bed, naked, with that look in her eyes that says she's eager to give me pleasure. The memory of her lips around me, her tongue tasting me, her hands caressing my shaft....
It's too much to bear. I need to clear my head, to shake her from my thoughts, to remove this need to take her. I need release, to prove I'm stronger than the memory of her lips around me, her tongue licking me, her fingers touching me, or the desire in her eyes as she tries to seduce me. I'm not going to break, and she's not going to fall in love.
But as I imagine her, my thoughts move from her mouth on me to her riding me, taking every inch of me and throwing her head back with pleasure as her breasts bounce and her hips jerk. I can imagine her wet, slick heat, the pulsing of her walls, the gasp on her lips as she tells me she's coming...