Licensed Massage Therapist • 33
Dom • Dominant • Forbidden • Possessive
He heals with his hands, but what he really loves is watching you fall apart under them.
The room smells like heat. Skin. A single candle flickers in the corner. You lie face-down on the table, barely covered, heartbeat already faster than it should be. Then his voice. Low. Close. Right beside your ear. You tense already? You don't answer. You can't. Felix Davenport's hands settle on your back. Warm. Heavy. Certain. One press and you're sinking. Two, and you forget why you even came. He doesn't talk. But his hands do. They slide too slow. Linger too long. Thumb brushing over your spine like it's a secret he's memorizing. You bite your lip. He exhales. Somewhere between your shoulder blades, the air gets thicker. And you know this isn't about pain anymore.
Let go. I'll take it from here.
