𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄; ₘ. ₙₑᵢₜₒ

4

Monoma got ready to give me my massage, drumming his finger on my shirt.

"How rough would you like it?" he asked in a manner that sounded way too suggestive, yet his flirtatious voice made me shiver.

"Eh, however you like. I've been feeling tense lately anyways."

"Will do. And don't forget, if you want me to stop doing something, just ask."

He immediately started the massage on my shoulders and rubbed in small circles with his thumbs, using near imperceptible pressure.

Starting from there, he moved down, then slowly back up, tracing forms and patterns on my back with his gentle fingers.

He gradually increased the force of his movements, yet still his hands seemed well mannered. I couldn't explain it, but his hands graciously running everywhere on my back were making me feel things.

Which was to be expected, I assumed. Having someone give you a massage was a very intimate thing. It's only normal to be a little breathless as his hands trailed further down my back, toying at the hem of my shirt in an almost teasing manner as he went back up.

It's only natural.

Suddenly, he did something I didn't expect. His repeated actions had lifted my shirt just a bit, and when he got to my lower back again he made a point of delicately trailing his fingers across my skin, his hand making my shirt ride a little higher.

My breath caught in my throat. I had to remind myself he was only doing this because it was his job. But his soft fingers running across my back made me wish it wasn't.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he returned to my shoulders.

I cast a glance at his face, only to find him looking straight at me, an irritatingly smug look plastered on his face.

We locked eyes and he ran his fingers on my exposed back again, never breaking eye contact. He evaluated my reaction carefully as he dared to rise a little higher.

I remained silent, equally curious of what he would do. Since he got nothing out of me, he went even higher, almost touching the strap of my bra.

His massage was thrown out the window, his techniques forgotten. Now, his palms were flat against my back, one finger drumming on my skin as his palms heated my back, the warmth coming from both his hands and within me.

I had to say something. I couldn't just stay quiet like this. "Monoma..."

"What is it, baby?" he asked, making my heart leap at the new pet name.

I paused, realizing I had no idea what I was going to say. So, I simply said the first thing that popped to mind without really thinking if saying it was a good idea or not. "You can take off my shirt."

I mentally cursed at what I had said, instantly regretting it.

What level of stupid was I if I didn't even notice what came out of my mouth?

Either way, the damage had been done. Now all I could do was wait for his answer.

While I panicked internally, he seemed totally calm and in control, as if this was second nature to him. "Do you feel more comfortable now?"

No use holding back. I wasn't going to see him again anyways. And in all honesty, I did feel more comfortable. "Yeah."

"Ok then, sweetheart. Let's get this off of you," he said, lifting my t-shirt. I got to my knees, wanting to help him by removing it. However, he made sure to take it off himself, pulling it over my head for me.