“That’s not something to be proud of,” I said with a quiet laugh, wanting her to feel at ease before I did anything that might make her feelings worse.
“Too late,” she huffed, and I could tell she was smiling into the mattress, though whether it was real or forced, I had no way of knowing with so much flowing from her at once. I hated that she had to carry all of this. Hated that it had built so deeply into her that even relief was temporary, fleeting at best.
My hands slowed slightly, my tentacles adjusting, more intentional now in the way I drew it out of her, trying not to let my own emotions get the better of me.
“Does this hurt?” I asked quietly.
“No,” she breathed. “It feels good, actually.”
I was glad one of us felt that way, because taking on all of her hurt was beginning to wear on me. It pressed in, an emotional weight that almost felt physical as it moved through me. My jaw tightened slightly as I continued, refusing to slow or pull back.
“How’s it going?” she asked softly, her voice a little lighter now.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “There’s just a lot, and it’s pretty much everywhere.” I moved carefully over the areas I currently had access to, but I could feel more of it trapped in other parts of her body—areas that were definitely not appropriate to touch—so I had to make do with what I had.
“I can adjust the way I’m lying down if that helps.”
“No,” I said quickly, my hands and tentacles stilling for only a fraction of a second before continuing. “The way you’re positioned is fine. There are just... other areas I would typically have access to, but I can work with what I can reach.”
“I can take the dress off if that’s easier.”
I stilled as my tentacles reacted before I could stop them, tightening slightly around her while the suckers clung to her skin a little rougher than I had intended.
Take the dress off.
For a split second, my mind betrayed me as images I had no business entertaining surfaced as I felt my cock harden at the idea. Because while I did want to see all of her, I had to remember thiswas not the time. I was a professional, and I would not use her vulnerability as some form of seduction.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice more tentative now. “It was just a suggestion if it would make things easier for you. I just wanted you to know I’m not embarrassed, and I trust you. I mean, you are a pro, after all.”
I doubted a professional would be dealing with a hard-on mid-massage, but she definitely didn’t need to know that. Still, despite that, full access would make this easier and more effective. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. I would be able to help her more. That was the reason. Only that.Nothing else.
I forced myself to steady, quietly willing my body to settle before I risked alarming her.
“It would help,” I said finally, my voice gruffer now. I cleared my throat and tried to keep it calm. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine. Just grab a towel and I can cover my ass, at least. I don’t think I’m holding any tension there,” she said with a small laugh, and I couldn’t help but let out a quiet one in return. Even after everything I had been feeling from her, she still tried so hard to make light of what I could only assume was something dark from her past, or maybe even her present, buried beneath the surface.
Before I could overthink it, I turned away and moved toward the bathroom to retrieve a towel. I kept my gaze firmly elsewhere as I returned, holding it out to her without looking.
“Here.”
There was the soft sound of fabric shifting behind me as she undressed, and I tried to focus on anything else. The wall. The doorframe. The still-crooked closet door I would eventually fix for her...
“Okay,” she said after a moment. “I’m ready.”
I nodded once, giving her another second before turning back, forcing my focus into place and locking everything else away. Because this was about helping her—nothing more.
With her dress gone, even with the towel carefully draped where it needed to be, there was nothing between my touch and her skin. No barrier, just warmth, softness, and the subtle shifts of her body beneath my hands and tentacles as I continued to work. And as I touched her, I felt something else— something that had been there before, layered beneath everything else, but stronger and more pronounced now.
Desire.
I had felt it from her before, but not like this. She was turned on, and the longer I touched her, the stronger that feeling grew.
I continued, refusing to let it disrupt what I was doing. Because if I stopped—if I let myself focus on anything other than the task at hand—I wasn’t entirely certain I would be able to regain control.
“Kara,” I said quietly, more to center myself than anything else, “stay still.”
“I am still.”
