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That got a smile from her. But she tapped that table again. “You are not getting to work on me until I’ve worked on your shoulder, back and hamstring.”
“Oh, I’m going to work on you,” I warned her, giving in. For now. She was right, I did feel tight in my back. Coach had instructed each and every one of us to prioritize stretching and therapy work heading into the games. Damn it, why did Emma have to be so good at her job?
She was so good. She worked every inch of me, with warm oil getting into every sore spot, pressing into and releasing all my tension even as a different kind of tension built. When she got me onto my back and worked my shoulder, damn if she didn’t give me more contact than usual. A brush with her breast, lingering fingers across my pecs. And down at my quad, she stroked and rubbed, looking at my cock the whole time as it grew larger and harder with every touch.
She really had it coming to her. The whole time she’d been working on me, I’d been plotting my revenge. The second she was done, I nearly leapt up.
“Now it’s my turn,” I declared with a predatory gleam in my eyes. “Lie down.”
She looked at me, eyes wide. And then did as I said.
CHAPTER 13
Emma
“Now I’m going to show you what you’ve been putting me through,” Chase warned me, stern.
I shivered with anticipation. He had me up on the table, lying on my front. Completely naked. He’d stripped me down quick, my shorts and athletic top off before I knew what was happening. Now I lay there with nowhere to hide, completely at his mercy.
I heard him flip open the top of the bottle of massage oil, rubbing his palms together. How many times had I done exactly that with clients? The sound had never turned me on before. But now I lay there wiggling, throbbing between my legs, barely able to wait to feel his hands on me.
He wanted me like that. He loved making me crazy, and he was so good at it, so driven and relentless. I’d had more orgasms in the past week than I had in some years of my life. Maybe that was also a statement on the sadness of my sex life in the past, but I was an upbeat type of a person. I didn’t like dwelling on the negative of what came before, especially when the promise of the present was so great.
He started at the center of my back, giving me soft strokes, working his way out in circles. The man was good with his hands. But as much as I was enjoying the traditional massage, my body hummed with eager arousal. We’d talked about having sex tonight. I was the living embodiment of the Marvin Gaye song, every inch of me singing “Let’s Get It On!” He’d told me to touch myself. The filthy mouth on that man, how I loved listening to it as much as kissing it, not to mention feeling how he could kiss me. I was good with instructions. I’d always been a good student.
I’d had myself a nice afternoon, headed out for a run, phoned my parents, read through our blog a bit. I’d called Tori, too. She and I hadn’t talked in a few days. I wanted to hear about Rio. She was keeping a steady stream of chatter going on the blog and seemed to be having the time of her life, as usual, but I wanted to hear it straight from her. But she didn’t pick up so I had to leave a message.
I’d found myself with some time on my hands. And Chase’s words on my mind. I’d taken a nice, long shower and guess what? The hotel had a detachable showerhead nozzle. I’d had quite a time, letting myself fantasize, getting lost in just how good it would feel to finally have him inside of me, finally feel him come in me deep.
But I didn’t come. He’d told me to wait and crazy as it sounded, that turned me on even more. Maybe it was because he wasn’t an asshole. I’d dated controlling guys who’d treated me badly and let me be the first to say, it was not sexy. It sucked. But Chase, who seemed to delight in being around me, treating me with consideration and kindness and showing just how solicitous he could be to my needs? When he got a little bossy, it made my panties wet.
Now I wasn’t even wearing panties, and Chase was working his way down my body, infuriatingly skipping my ass and going right to my legs. But it did feel so good the way he stroked my legs, using that oil, rubbing my calves and hamstrings and finally, finally up to tease my buttocks.
He started cupping my ass, using light strokes, adding more oil. I couldn’t help it, I started to sneak my hand under my hips. Surely he wouldn’t mind if I touched myself a little. I needed to. I’d let him watch.
Swat, his hand came down playfully on my ass.
“Not until I say you can,” he reprimanded me. My pussy clenched in response, feeling his control. I whimpered in frustration as I pulled my hand away, leaving it dutifully by my side.
“How wet are you?” he asked, his silky tone of voice matching the strokes of his hands. “Open your legs so I can see.”
Holding my breath, I did as he said, parting my legs and arching my ass up so he could take a look. It felt so naughty, like confessing a secret. He could see, without any doubt, how painfully aroused I was, slick and begging for him. He brought his face in close, but didn’t touch. Not yet. Instead, he blew lightly on my wet slit, making me moan and shiver.
“I know,” he soothed me, running his hands along my ass, parting my cheeks a bit with his thumbs. “I know how much you want it. But I won’t let you have it yet. Do you know how many times I wanted to touch myself while you massaged me? How many times I got a raging hard-on while you rubbed me with warm oil, and then left the room?”
“But I’m your physical therapist!” I whined.
“Not now, you’re not. Flip over,” he ordered, giving my ass a smack that I felt directly in my pussy, making my clit throb. I turned over, lying on my back, quivering as he once again dialed it back, starting slow down at my toes. I clutched the sides of the table, bit my lip and tossed my head to the side as he started moving up. I didn’t think I could stand much more. He might make me come just by massaging me.
“Chase!” I cried out, leaning up, hand gripping his arm as I felt my pussy clench. “Chase, I can’t take it!”
“Yes, you can, baby,” He pressed my shoulder back down, demanding. “For me, Emma. Lie back and take it a little more. For me. I want to play with you some more. But don’t worry, I am going to fuck you.”
I groaned, lying back, submitting to the sweetest torture I’d ever experienced. I had no idea where the man got his iron will, his capacity for self-denial, his ability to delay gratification…oh wait, Olympic-caliber athlete. I guessed those character traits carried through to all aspects of his life. I was just the tortured beneficiary.
Trailing his fingers lightly along my stomach, he circled my breasts as I panted.
“See how beautiful you are? I want you to look.” I opened my eyes, only just realizing I’d had them squeezed shut, trying to stay still, keep it together.
I glanced down and it didn’t make me any less aroused, seeing him cupping my breasts in his large hands. He brought his mouth down and licked around my nipples.
“Not…fair,” I bit out, fisting the sheet on the table. I’d never used my tongue. I’d wanted to, but I hadn’t gone there. Or, wait, I had, hadn’t I? The other day, when I’d taken him deep down my throat.
He sucked in my nipple, groaning as he did it, like it was the most amazing feeling in the world. He trailed his fingers down my stomach, between my legs, and finally, finally pressed right against my swollen clit. Under his expert attentions as he stroked and licked, I came completely apart, an orgasm crashing over me as I arched my breast up into his hungry mouth.
“Yes, Emma, like that,” he coaxed me, sending wave after wave of pleasure through my body. Before I’d come down from my high, he picked me up, held me against his chest and brought me to the bed.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Emma,” he confessed, laying my head down on a pillow.
“Chase,” I managed, my head still in the clouds, my body like warm liquid. He stripped off his briefs, his glorious cock springing out hard and thick. He stood over me, his hand wrapped around its length, stroking i
t slowly as he looked at me lying there naked.
“Oh, yes,” I sighed, watching him, fascinated by his raw, male power, the veins running his length, the drop of pre-come at the tip.
He turned and walked away from me and I nearly cried out in protest until I saw him fishing around in the pocket of his shorts. He pulled out a condom. The man had thought ahead. I liked that, a planner. He returned, ready to go, and dropped down over me, kissing my lips, my throat, his hands in my hair.
“You’re sure, Emma? I know I’ve been doing my best to make you crazy, but I want you to be sure this is what you want.”
“Chase.” I looked at him, dead serious, my hands on either side of his face. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I will have to report you to the proper authorities.”
He broke out in a smile. “And what crime would I have committed?”
“Sexual provocation.” I didn’t know if that was a real thing, but it sounded legit.
“Well, I can’t have that kind of a scandal. I’m about to compete in the Olympic Games.”
“Then you’d better get to it.”
After that, all banter fell aside. All I was aware of was his body, his kisses, the feel of his hard, sculpted muscles moving fluid over me. I couldn’t get enough of touching him, worshipping his warm, toned body trained to the peak of physical perfection. I opened for him, eager, still holding my breath as he brought himself to my entrance. He was huge. I’d never been with anyone that big before and as much as I wanted it, I had to wonder how it was all going to work down there.
“I’ll go slow,” he reassured me, clearly sensing my nerves. I nodded and he started easing his way in, his crown spreading me as he thrust. I groaned, tossing my head back against the pillow, my hands up, clutching his massive shoulders. “God you feel so good,” he groaned, thrusting in again, deeper, then deeper again. My eyes wide, I couldn’t believe how full I felt, how wide he was stretching me. I grabbed onto his muscles, panting, wanting but overwhelmed. He wasn’t even all the way in yet.
