She hesitates, then nods once. I resist the urge to take her hand, letting her follow me back into the villa at her own pace. The living room is dimly lit, the couch still arranged with her discarded blankets.
“Lie down,” I instruct, keeping my tone gentle but firm. “On your stomach.”
Trinity’s eyes widen slightly, but she complies, settling onto the couch. I kneel beside her, taking in the sight of her curves outlined by silk.
“I’m going to touch you now,” I warn, giving her time to object.
When she remains silent, I place my hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension knotted there. She flinches slightly at the contact.
“Relax,” I murmur, lightening my touch until she settles again.
I work my thumbs in small circles at the base of her neck, feeling the tightness there. Her muscles are like steel cables beneath my fingers.
“You carry all your stress right here,” I observe, pressing into a particularly tight knot.
Trinity makes a small sound—half pain, half pleasure. I immediately ease up.
“Too much?”
“No, it’s... it feels good.”
I continue, moving down to her shoulder blades. When I reach a spot that makes her tense, I stop immediately, waiting until she relaxes again before continuing. Each time she yields to me, surrendering another fraction of control, her scent grows sweeter.
“That’s it,” I encourage as she melts further into the couch. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
My hands work lower, tracing the elegant curve of her spine through the thin fabric. When I reach the small of her back, Trinity’s breath hitches.
“Still okay?” I ask.
She nods into the pillow. “Yes.”
I move down to her legs, starting at her calves. Her skin is smooth and warm beneath my palms as I knead the tension from her muscles. When my hands reach the backs of her thighs, just below the hem of her nightie, she tenses again.
I stop immediately. “Remember your magic word?”
“Stop,” she whispers, not as a command but as confirmation.
“That’s right. Anytime.” I resume my massage, careful to stay below the hemline. “You’re in control here, Trinity. Always.”
The irony isn’t lost on me—telling her she’s in control while guiding her toward surrender. But it’s true. The real power will always be hers to wield.
Gradually, her breathing deepens, her body becoming pliant beneath my touch. The scent of her arousal mingleswith the ocean breeze through the still-open door, intoxicating me.
“How does it feel?” I ask, my voice lower than intended.
“Good,” she murmurs dreamily. “Really good.”
“See what happens when you let someone take care of you?”
Trinity turns her head to look at me, her eyes heavy-lidded. “Is this how you are with Cash?”
The question surprises me. “Sometimes. Everyone needs different things at different times. For example…”
I slide my hands higher, feeling the silk of her nightie bunch against my wrists. Trinity’s breath catches as my fingers trace the curve where thigh meets ass. Her skin is fever-hot, impossibly soft.
“Is this okay?” I whisper, pausing at the edge of her underwear.
She nods, face half-buried in the pillow. “Yes.”
