When Eduardo moved up to her shoulders, she wanted to cry. Her pussy throbbed, unfulfilled, empty, and oh, so wet. The man who was too sexy for her own good went about his job efficiently, but damn, it was so hard not to believe there was a little something more with the way he handled her. Instead of her growing sexual attraction fading, it only got worse, even when he instructed her to flip over so he could do her back.
In defiance, Tonisha failed to pull the sheet up over her when she did so. Boldly, she flipped onto her stomach, letting her ass hang out there for him to kiss, damn it. How dare he turn her on like this? Let him look. She went to the gym four times a week. Her trainer might have been a Nazi in her past life, given how hard she made Tonisha work; one thing Tonisha knew for damn sure was she had a perfect ass. Yeah, she couldn't seem to get rid of the soft mound of her stomach no matter how hard she tried, and yeah, her thighs were more than generous, but she knew her ass was a thing of beauty.
He must have thought so too, given the small hiss he let escape. Good. Let his ass suffer like she was suffering.
Too bad her satisfaction flew out the window as soon as he touched her again. Holy hell, how could a massage on the freaking shoulders be so sensual? Working slowly, he made his way from her shoulders to her back just above the curve of her ass, then back up again. Apparently he liked the view, because he made no effort to cover her, either. That or he was ignoring her behind completely. Funny, it certainly felt hot, as if someone had focused all their attention on it. Frustration was a living, breathing thing. Why wouldn’t he touch her just a little bit inappropriately already? It gnawed at Tonisha from the inside out. She wanted to either flee the room in utter embarrassment or grab the man by the front of his perfectly pleated pants, rip them open, and demand satisfaction. Given she was a woman of action, one of the most powerful people in her world, the former wasn't as likely to happen as the latter.
Silently, she cursed the man. Somehow, she was certain this was all his fault. She buried her face in the pillow and smothered another groan. All the while, Eduardo continued to stroke her back, caressing in firm, soothing movements.
"My pardon, madam." Eduardo broke the tense silence with that deep, quiet voice of his. "You're more tense than when I started. Perhaps madam needs a more…intensive therapy?"
"Yes." Tonisha didn't recognize her breathy whisper as her own. "I think that would be a good idea."
"You will tell me if you are uncomfortable. Yes?" God, he really did have a sexy voice. Like a well-aged cognac, deep, smoky.
"Just do what you think is best." If he wasn't going to spell it out, she wasn't asking. If it came down to it, if he refused to take the hint, she'd order the bastard to fuck her. That was rather crude, but this was really ridiculous. That would make her just as bad as the spoiled CEOs she was always bailing out of trouble. But frankly she could care less. No one had turned her on like this with a simple touch. And he was a perfect stranger.
Slowly, as if waiting for her to stop him, Eduardo moved his hands down either side of her spine in a firm caress. When he reached her buttocks, he hesitated briefly before running his hands over the rounded globes, kneading gently but firmly.
Tonisha groaned again, clutching the sides of the massage table in a death grip. The man was going to kill her. Or she might kill him if he didn't get on with it. Of course, this was a massage. Nothing about it needed to be fast. It was all about relaxation, slow and easy. Eduardo certainly believed that, if his actions were any indication. Over and over he kneaded her buttocks, getting to every part as if each muscle group deserved his undivided attention.
When he began working on her thighs nearest her buttocks, Tonisha spread her legs just the slightest bit. She couldn't help it. His grunt as he continued his torturous ministrations to her aching body told her he approved of her actions. Strong fingers shaped her inner thighs, not quite skimming her pussy, but there was no way he could miss the moisture leaking steadily from her. Each time he trailed his fingers around the inside of her legs, she pushed back at him, trying in vain to get him to just brush her clit or her pussy lips. Just that little bit of contact would set her off. Over and over he slid his hands and fingers over her ass and upper legs, the tension becoming almost unbearable. How could this possibly continue without her completely losing control?