Ⓒ︎Ⓞ︎Ⓝ︎Ⓣ︎Ⓔ︎Ⓝ︎Ⓣ︎ 🅦︎🅐︎🅡︎🅝︎🅘︎🅝︎🅖︎

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑥𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑢𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠. 𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠, 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑦𝑚𝑏𝑜𝑙: ☘︎

♡︎𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒚♡︎

POV Lucian

I'm relishing in the memory of Akhyra's astonished face in the gym earlier, as the water from the shower head splashes over my body. After exercising under her iron fist for three hours, most of the guys could barely stand up as they dragged their ass back to our dorms. 

I decided to take a cold shower because the sight of Akhyra's outfit today has burned itself into my mind, and it's the only thing that I can think about. I'm haunted by the way her thigh chain wrapped around her skin, tempting me like a soft whisper to explore the treasures hidden under the hem of her dress shirt.

Unsurprisingly, as I look down to my body, I notice a semi hard-on. No freaking way... I'm having the reaction of a fourteen year old teenage boy who just looked through the pages of his first Playboy magazine.

Choosing to ignore my current state, I scrub my body vigorously to get this over with. A few minutes later, I'm out of the bathroom, and my little problem is gone without me having to take care of it. After training, the boys had decided to meet for some Call of Duty rounds. It's no surprise to me when there's a knock on my door right after I've put my shorts on. 

"Come in," I say loud enough to whoever it is as I look inside my closet for a shirt. I hear them come inside before closing the door. "Are you guys sure you'll be able to enjoy the game? My limbs are sore enough to make me wanna lay in bed until semi-finals."

"A massage might help."

My body freezes at the sudden familiar voice. When I turn around, I find Akhyra standing by the door.

"You're still here?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "Thought I'd say goodbye first. Want me to leave?"

"No," my hand lifts instinctively, ready to lunge for her.

There are a few seconds of awkward silence as we stare at each other before Akhyra breaks it.

"My offer for the massage still stands. Are you taking it?"

"Hum...yes?"

Is this real, or am I dreaming?

"You don't look so sure."

"I'm sure. One hundred percent."

"Great." She points at the shirt that I'm holding. "You won't need that."

I throw it back in the closet before getting on the bed, lying on my stomach. I'm not entirely sure that this isn't an elaborate prank, but Akhyra seems serious. Her Louis Vuitton handbag matches her outfit, a white shell with brown handles, and LV logos printed on both sides with decorative star shaped patterns. She places it on the table near the entrance and starts searching for something in the main compartment. 

"I don't suppose you have any type of essential oils here?"

"I don't."

"It's a good thing I always carry a sample of what I use for my hands." 

My eyes follow her movements as she takes a small clear glass dropper bottle out of her bag. There's a book on the table that she curiously grabs. It's a biography of the famous Portuguese footballer Cristiano Ronaldo. It's written by Luca Caioli, a renowned Italian sports journalist.

"The Obsession for Perfection," Akhyra reads the title outloud before glancing my way. "You've got an insatiable thirst for achievement?"

"Don't you?"

She offers a tiny smile that sends a punch in my guts. 

"Fair enough. What's your next step after the Gold Cup?"

"Getting recruited by a European club. My agent is already in contact with two of them."

"I'm sure you'll get an offer from them," she declares. "They would be stupid to let you go."

Akhyra walks toward the bed, drops the book down and puts the bottle of oil on top of it. Then she sits at the edge of the mattress and bends over to untie her boots.

"Why are you taking them off?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm getting on the bed."

My nervous system almost short-circuits. 

"Why?"

"If I remain standing, my back will hurt."

I really don't want to argue against that. But the simple idea of Akhyra's body in close proximity with mine is enough to send my mind spiraling. 

When we danced at the museum, it was as if I had an out-of-body experience. Every cell of my being that came in contact with hers ignited with the kind of flame that one only feels when bathing in a breath of sunlight after living in cold darkness for too long. Before Akyra, I'd been wandering aimlessly in a moonless night, with only my guilt as a guide. 

Now that she came into my life, Akhyra has dragged me back into the light, where it's warm and colorful. There's a landscape built of unknown adventures awaiting us. I can't wait to begin this journey with her for as long as she'll have me.

When the mattress slightly dips under Akhyra's weight, all my senses snap to attention. I suppose that somewhere in the Gentleman Guidebook it stipulates that if the girl you like is willingly getting on your bed to give you a massage (after almost torturing you to death) the best course of action is to remain calm and not say anything inappropriate. 

I'm already failing miserably at maintaining a peaceful mind. My heart is playing ping-pong against my ribcage. Akhyra parts her legs on each side of my body. The soft skin of her thighs is pressed to my hips. I'm also hyper-aware of the golden chains of her thigh jewelry brushing against me. For a second, I forget how to breathe until she speaks up.

"I'm going to start with your back or would you prefer I do your arms first?"

As long as she's touching me, I have no issue about how or where she begins. Though I have a feeling that if I give that answer, I might freak her out. Following the Gentleman Guidebook, I opt for a more appropriate response. 

"You should start with where you feel the most comfortable."

There's a moment of silence while she pours oil into her palm and rubs her hand together. 

My eyes close instinctively as she begins to massage the tensed muscles of my neck. Her slender fingers work my flesh with the correct balance of firm precision and suave agility. 

I've been to countless massage sessions before but none of the masseuses I've had can compete with Akhyra's hands. And no. This isn't me being biased.

"How are you so good at this?"

"Couldn't have a physical therapist, so I had to learn some tricks myself."

When her fingers hit the right spot between my shoulder blades, I can't help letting out a hum of content. In other circumstances, I might have felt a bit self-conscious about purring like a shameless cat, but I'm currently experiencing too much bliss to worry about embarrassing myself.

"Right there?" Akhyra asks. Without a doubt, she senses that I'm about to transcend to another dimension.

"Yeah."

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

The amused edge of her tone doesn't escape my attention. 

"You're enjoying this. Aren't you?"

"Actually I'm doing an experiment."

An experiment to drive me crazy?

"I'm gonna need you to elaborate on that."

"I talked to my therapist about the fact that we can touch now. Sometimes I find it overwhelming. She came with a list of tasks to help my brain get used to the idea that you're safe."

"What's on that list?"

"The one that I'm currently experimenting with is task number four. Create an intimate environment that allows us to touch and use a chronometer to see how long I can handle it."

I did notice that she had placed her phone next to the book earlier but I assumed that the timer was set for the duration of the massage. A quick glance at the screen indicates that we're already close to fifteen minutes.

"How are you doing so far?"

"Pretty good."

"I'm guessing therapy is finally helping you?" I ask, remembering the last conversation we had about it, back in Haiti when we shared the same hotel room.

"I've realized that it has always helped me somehow. It took me a while to realize it."

"Your therapist must have been proud when you told her that you can come in contact with people now."

"Not people. Just you."

I had a feeling but I wasn't sure. When Akhyra told me about fearlessly singing around a pub full of people, I'd thought that she became more comfortable at the idea of being in proximity with others.

"How's your therapist taking it? The fact that it's only me."

"She tried to give me some wisdom about how my relationship with others is also as important, blah, blah, blah."

"She's not wrong."

"Don't say that," Akhyra reprimands as she delivers a firm smack to my lower back.

Without warning, all of the blood circulating throughout my vessels rushes toward my groin as a muffled groan escapes me before I'm able to contain it.

For fuck's sake. This woman must be on a mission to give me a heart attack today. 

"Are you okay?" Akhyra asks, probably alerted by the sound of a drowning cat that came out of me. "Are you getting a cramp?"

"I'm fine," I manage to breathe out. 

"Alright. I'm moving on to your legs now."

My brain doesn't fully register the implication of that statement until I feel Akhyra shift from her previous position. She's not straddling me anymore and kneels at my side instead.

"Turn over," she orders.

Wait. What?

There's not a chance in hell that I'm letting Akhyra see me with an erection while she's giving me a very platonic massage.

"Let's do my arms first."

Hopefully this might give me enough time to cool down.

"I already did your arms."

Shit. I got so distracted that I didn't even notice. How do I get out of this? 

"I need a moment," I mutter miserably. 

"Sure. Do you have to use the bathroom?"

She's probably thinking that I need to pee, however I can think of another way to quickly relieve myself in there. This isn't an option either. To go to the bathroom I'd have to get out of bed and Akhyra would definitely see the tent in my shorts.

As my mind scrambles to come up with a discreet way to proceed. Akhyra's phone emits a chirping sound.

"Gosh, I almost forgot!" She exclaims. "We're supposed to do costume fitting for Enchanted Shadows today."

"Does that put an end to our massage session?"

"Yes. I have to leave now to make it in time. Madame Laroche despises latecomers."

Literally saved by the gong. I remain in position as Akhyra gets out of bed. I turn my head to keep my eyes on her while she recuperates her handbag.

"Are you feeling better?" She asks once she's ready to go.

"A lot. Your hands were so magical that I'm sleepy now. I'm gonna take a nap."

Akhyra lets out an adorable giggle that I want to record and listen while doing my morning routine in the gym.

"Well, then, see you at the semi-finals. Sweet dreams."

The second she's out of the room I sprint toward the door to lock it before going back to bed. 

☘︎I waste no time in getting my shorts down enough to free my erection. I'm already rock hard, so there's not much work to do besides closing my eyes and letting my imagination relive the last moments as I fist my manhood, pre-cum already leaking from the tip.

Akhyra's fingers on my skin, her thighs straddling me, these darn gold chains that almost drove me nuts. I imagine the sound she would make if I slipped two fingers under the black lace fabric around her thigh to slap it against her skin. Would she be turned on by that? I envision my hand trailing upward, under her dress shirt, until I reach the warmth of her inner thighs, fingers brushing against the sweet triangle lodged between her legs. Would she be wet for me?

Fuck!

I pump my dick faster as I imagine parting her underwear to slide between her slick folds. Akhyra would probably grab my shoulders and bite her lips, trying to contain her soft moans. I'd take pleasure in teasing her until she begged for more before touching her where she'd need me the most. I'd roll her pulsating clitoris under my thumb before pinching it. She'd gasp and cry out my name, like a desperate plea as her nails sank into my shoulders. 

Damn it. I'm so close. 

My hips buck above the mattress as I continue to beat my meat in furious strokes of up and down. Circling my erection as tight as I can to provoke the perfect amount of friction. I'm tethering on the edge of oblivion, almost falling into the precipice, when I hear the memory of Akhyra asking earlier, "Feels good, doesn't it?"

My climax crashes over in shockwaves, drowning all my senses. Jets of cum spurts from my dick, landing on my stomach and upper thighs. It takes a full minute for my heart to finally slow down, allowing me to catch my breath. 

It's official. Akhyra has possessed me body and soul.