Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 44009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
When Poppy and Erin beat Biba into the ground, spitting on her and degrading her in front of everyone, it felt like someone had a vice grip on my heart. I hated seeing her like that, but I also hated that she turned against me. Why did she have to do that? Why did she have to force my hand?
With a defeated sigh, I shut off the water, knowing that a shower wasn’t going to help me relax. Hopefully, the masseuse had magic hands and could work away my stress. I was in paradise, and on the verge of imploding from stress.
I ruffled my damp hair with a towel before drying my body off. There was no point in getting dressed, so I merely stepped out of the bathroom and walked over to the table that was waiting for me. I nodded to the masseuse, a slim blonde, before laying on my stomach on the table.
“Good evening, sir,” the masseuse said as she dripped warm oil on my back. She spread the oil over my skin, pressing her fingers into my muscles and feeling their tightness. “Oh, my. You’re so tense.”
“Hopefully, you can help with that,” I replied as I rested my chin on my crossed arms. I let my eyes slowly shut, leaning into the sensation of her massaging my broad shoulders. It already felt good, coaxing me to let out a slow breath through my nose. This was what I needed.
The masseuse smiled to herself as she moved her hands lower, digging her thumbs around my spine. She knew just where to touch me, helping my muscles loosen and making my thoughts dull. No wonder she was so highly rated.
A low groan left me as she massaged my lower back. I didn’t realize how tight my muscles were. My brain was a spiraling mess, but I’d had no idea how much that impacted my body until now. I needed her to come out and help me every week, every day at this point.
“That’s good,” I told her, feeling her hands glide up my sides. Even if I shouldn’t, I couldn’t help but imagine Biba touching me like this. Her touch affected me more than anyone else’s, but so did her actions and betrayals.
“Flip over, sir. It’ll feel even better,” the masseuse purred.
I turned over to lay on my back, leaning my head against the table. At first, she stroked my chest, gliding over my pecs and then down my abs. It felt nice being touched like that again. Granted, the hands didn’t belong to who I wanted them to belong to, but I wasn’t going to be picky right now.
Suddenly, her fingers trailed down the length of my cock.
I jolted slightly in surprise, raising my head to peer down at her.
The masseuse flashed me a flirty smile as she wrapped her fingers around my cock, slowly stroking it and making it grow hard.
“Relax, sir,” she insisted, shooting me a wink.
My head started to feel hot and dazed as she stroked me. I was pretty sure this wasn’t a normal part of the massage, but it felt too good to tell her to stop. I dropped my head back down and closed my eyes, focusing on how her delicate fingers worked up and down my length. She had me fully hard and oiled in no time.
The masseuse wrapped both hands around my cock, one hand working the head and the other working the base. Her eyes flickered up to my face, watching my eyebrows knit together in pleasure.
I tightened my jaw, keeping my mind clear and focusing on the sensation. I definitely wouldn’t turn down an orgasm right now. I couldn’t think of a better distraction from the hell that was my life at this moment in time. As her hands kept working me, I found myself edging closer and closer to orgasm. My cock throbbed and pulsed, pre-come spilling from the slit.
With only a few strokes left in me, my phone suddenly rang, throwing off my focus. My orgasm shied away, leaving me frustrated. I sat up abruptly, brushing the masseuse’s hands away. I couldn’t even enjoy a simple massage without being interrupted.
Maybe I was also upset because I had a feeling about what the call was about. Arvo had probably carried out the deed, and Sol was dead. I hopped off the table and grabbed my phone off the nightstand, seeing Arvo’s name on my screen. With hesitation, I answered the call.
“Is it done?” I asked, feeling my stomach twist.
“No, the plan got botched. Sol escaped,” Arvo bit out, sounding pissed off.
I turned to the masseuse, nodding my head toward the door.
“Leave,” I told her, not wanting her to eavesdrop on Kings’ business. When she stepped out, I sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, my heart rate speeding up. “What happened?”