Husband Away, Father-in-Law Stays - Chapter 24: Chapter 24
You are reading Husband Away, Father-in-Law Stays, Chapter 24: Chapter 24. Read more chapters of Husband Away, Father-in-Law Stays.
His fingers worked deftly, loosening my blouse buttons before sliding off my bra with practiced ease.
Even after multiple sessions, having someone else undress me still sent an uneasy flutter through my stomach. I waved off his help with the skirt, stepping out of it myself while keeping my lace panties on—some small shield of modesty.
By the time I'd finished, Adrian had already prepped the massage table with strategically placed pillows and a fresh towel. He held out a plush spa robe, gesturing toward the table with that professional smile.
Face down on the table, I barely had time to settle before his voice floated over me, smooth as the oil he was warming between his palms. "Victoria, shall I take these off for you?"
My cheeks burned, but this time I didn't protest—just a tiny nod against the face cradle.
His hands glided down my hips, slipping the last barrier away. The lights dimmed as soft piano melodies filled the air. Warm oil trickled across my back, his palms spreading it in slow, hypnotic circles.
Firm strokes traveled from my knotted shoulders down to the small of my back. "Pressure okay?" he murmured, thumbs pressing into a tight muscle. "Not too cold?"
I shook my head, my oversensitive skin tingling everywhere he touched. His fingers traced my spine like a map, cupping my hips before drifting down my thighs—only to slide back up in one long, devastating stroke.
Every pass of his hands sent electric currents through me.
Heat pooled low in my belly, that familiar ache building. When he told me to turn over, my pulse kicked up—I knew exactly where this was headed.
Thank God for the dim lighting hiding my flushed face. I squeezed my eyes shut the second I flipped onto my back. He draped a towel over my pelvis with clinical precision before settling near my head.
"Any areas off-limits today?" The standard question.
Curiosity got the better of me. "What do most women say?"
A chuckle. "Some wives save certain... sensitive spots for their husbands."
A bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. Ethan hadn't so much as brushed my shoulder in eight weeks. Whatever guilt I'd felt about this appointment had evaporated twenty minutes ago.
Voice barely above a whisper: "And the others?"
"Wherever feels good," he said easily. "The goal is relaxation."
Desire drowned out hesitation. "No restrictions."
The second his thumbs brushed my nipples, my entire body jerked. A sharp gasp tore free before I could catch it.
Holy hell, those hands—
He didn't miss a beat, circling the peaks with expert pressure. "Many clients find this helps relieve tension after long hours at the office..."
His polite small talk continued while his hands committed sin—dipping into my armpits, skimming the underside of my breasts, tracing my ribs before sweeping down to my hips in one liquid motion, only to reverse course and drag his fingertips along the very edge of my—
Each downward pass stoked the fire hotter. I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper.
This time, his hands ventured lower. Then—shock—his palms pressed my breasts flush against my ribs while his fingers pinched and rolled until I saw stars.
"Feels amazing, doesn't it?"
My back arched off the table. "God—"
When he didn't let up, moans spilled freely. Thought evaporated—just sensation, every nerve ending screaming.
His hands began rotating in slow, dizzying circles, kneading my swollen flesh until the room blurred.
Even after multiple sessions, having someone else undress me still sent an uneasy flutter through my stomach. I waved off his help with the skirt, stepping out of it myself while keeping my lace panties on—some small shield of modesty.
By the time I'd finished, Adrian had already prepped the massage table with strategically placed pillows and a fresh towel. He held out a plush spa robe, gesturing toward the table with that professional smile.
Face down on the table, I barely had time to settle before his voice floated over me, smooth as the oil he was warming between his palms. "Victoria, shall I take these off for you?"
My cheeks burned, but this time I didn't protest—just a tiny nod against the face cradle.
His hands glided down my hips, slipping the last barrier away. The lights dimmed as soft piano melodies filled the air. Warm oil trickled across my back, his palms spreading it in slow, hypnotic circles.
Firm strokes traveled from my knotted shoulders down to the small of my back. "Pressure okay?" he murmured, thumbs pressing into a tight muscle. "Not too cold?"
I shook my head, my oversensitive skin tingling everywhere he touched. His fingers traced my spine like a map, cupping my hips before drifting down my thighs—only to slide back up in one long, devastating stroke.
Every pass of his hands sent electric currents through me.
Heat pooled low in my belly, that familiar ache building. When he told me to turn over, my pulse kicked up—I knew exactly where this was headed.
Thank God for the dim lighting hiding my flushed face. I squeezed my eyes shut the second I flipped onto my back. He draped a towel over my pelvis with clinical precision before settling near my head.
"Any areas off-limits today?" The standard question.
Curiosity got the better of me. "What do most women say?"
A chuckle. "Some wives save certain... sensitive spots for their husbands."
A bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. Ethan hadn't so much as brushed my shoulder in eight weeks. Whatever guilt I'd felt about this appointment had evaporated twenty minutes ago.
Voice barely above a whisper: "And the others?"
"Wherever feels good," he said easily. "The goal is relaxation."
Desire drowned out hesitation. "No restrictions."
The second his thumbs brushed my nipples, my entire body jerked. A sharp gasp tore free before I could catch it.
Holy hell, those hands—
He didn't miss a beat, circling the peaks with expert pressure. "Many clients find this helps relieve tension after long hours at the office..."
His polite small talk continued while his hands committed sin—dipping into my armpits, skimming the underside of my breasts, tracing my ribs before sweeping down to my hips in one liquid motion, only to reverse course and drag his fingertips along the very edge of my—
Each downward pass stoked the fire hotter. I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper.
This time, his hands ventured lower. Then—shock—his palms pressed my breasts flush against my ribs while his fingers pinched and rolled until I saw stars.
"Feels amazing, doesn't it?"
My back arched off the table. "God—"
When he didn't let up, moans spilled freely. Thought evaporated—just sensation, every nerve ending screaming.
His hands began rotating in slow, dizzying circles, kneading my swollen flesh until the room blurred.
End of Husband Away, Father-in-Law Stays Chapter 24. Continue reading Chapter 25 or return to Husband Away, Father-in-Law Stays book page.