最後のクライアント

「お前、板みたいにガチガチに緊張してるな」

I laughed, face-down on the massage table, my nose buried in the scent of eucalyptus oil. "That obvious?"

"Your shoulders are up by your ears, Mila." The voice was low, amused. "Relax. That's the whole point of this place."

I'd come in for a deep tissue massage after a twelve-hour shift behind the bar. The studio was quiet, dim, all warm wood and soft instrumental music. The therapist—his name was Dario—had strong hands and an accent I couldn't quite place.

"Sorry. I'm not great at... this."

「じっとしていることにか？」彼の親指が首の付け根の凝りに食い込み、私は恥ずかしいほど喘ぎ声に近い音を漏らした。「それとも、誰かに主導権を渡すことにか？」

The question hung in the air. I felt the heat creep up my spine.

"Both, probably."

"Mm." He worked his way down my back, slow, deliberate. His palms were warm through the thin towel draped over me. "You're a bartender, right? You spend all night reading people, anticipating their needs. Never get to switch off."

「宿題はちゃんとやってきたんだな」

"I saw you at The Copper Kettle last week. You were pouring a whiskey neat with your left hand while your right hand was already reaching for the lime for the next order. That's a skill."

私は首を回して彼を見た。予想より若かった——三十代前半だろうか、黒髪が額にかかり、クルミも割れそうな顎をしていた。薄暗い光の中で、彼の目はほとんど黒に見えた。

"You were watching me?"

"Hard not to."

There it was. The tension shifted from my shoulders to somewhere lower.

"Take the towel off," he said. Not a question.

I hesitated for half a second, then reached back and pulled the towel away, letting it fall to the floor. The air hit my bare skin. I heard him exhale.

"Jesus, Mila."

His hands found my lower back, then my ass, fingers splaying over the curve of it. He squeezed, slow and firm, and I bit my lip.

"You're not going to massage me anymore, are you?"

"I can massage you." His fingers slid between my thighs, parting them gently. "Just not the way you came in here expecting."

I spread my legs without thinking. He made a low sound of approval.

"Good girl."

その言葉はテキーラのショットのように私を打った。彼が体勢を変えると、突然彼の口が私の背中のくぼみに触れた。熱く湿った唇が、お尻の上の窪みまで降りていく。私は彼に向かって背を反らせた。

"Fuck, Dario..."

"Shh." His hand pressed flat between my shoulder blades. "Quiet. Thin walls. The studio next door has a client."

I laughed, breathless. "You're joking."

"I never joke about discretion." His fingers found my pussy from behind, sliding through the wetness that had been building since the moment he'd touched me. "Fuck, you're soaked already."

"Your hands on my ass tend to do that."

He chuckled, and then his finger was inside me, curling, finding the spot that made my vision blur. I gripped the edge of the table.

「見てごらん」彼は指をもう一本加えながらつぶやいた。「こんなに締め付けて。こんなに準備ができてる」

"Dario. Please."

「何をお願いって？」

I hated how much I wanted it. How much I needed him to stop teasing. "Fuck me. Please."

He withdrew his fingers, and I heard the rustle of his clothes hitting the floor. Then his cock was pressing against me, thick and hard, and I pushed back against him instinctively.

「我慢だ」彼の手が私の腰を掴み、動きを止めた。「もう少しお前が懇願するところを聞きたい」

"I don't beg."

「いや？」彼はペニスの先端を私の割れ目に沿って滑らせた。ただ焦らすだけで、挿入はしない。「そうなるさ」

I was trembling. Every nerve ending was screaming for him. "Dario, I swear to God—"

"Swear to God what?" He pressed just the tip inside me, and I gasped. "That you'll be loud? Because I told you, we have to be quiet."

「なら、黙らせてみせて」

Something shifted in his eyes. He slammed into me, all at once, deep enough to make me choke on my breath. I clamped my hand over my mouth.

「いい子だ」彼はゆっくりと引き抜き、再び奥まで突き入れた。「そうだ。受け入れろ」

テーブルが私たちの下で軋んだ。彼は一定のリズムを刻み、激しく安定した突き上げのたびに衝撃が体を貫いた。彼のすべてを感じられた。私を完全に満たす感触、ストロークのたびに彼の睾丸が私のクリトリスに打ち当たる感触。

"So fucking tight," he gritted out. "You're going to make me come before I'm ready."

"Don't you dare." I was almost sobbing, muffled behind my hand. "I need this. I need to come around your cock."

He laughed, a breathless, dirty sound. "Greedy girl."

He pulled out, and I whimpered at the loss. But then he was turning me over, lifting my legs onto his shoulders, and I saw him for the first time—sweat sheening his chest, his cock glistening with my wetness, his eyes dark with hunger.

"Look at me," he said, and drove back in.

I cried out. He swallowed it with his mouth, kissing me hard and filthy, his tongue tangling with mine as he fucked me into the table. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned against my lips.

"That's it. Fucking take it."

"I'm close," I gasped. "Dario, I'm so close—"

"Come for me." His thumb found my clit, circling hard. "Come on my cock, Mila. Let me feel it."

It hit me like a wave, crashing through my whole body. I bit down on his shoulder to keep from screaming, my inner walls clenching around him, and he cursed, a low, ragged "fuck," and drove into me one last time, flooding me with heat.

We stayed like that for a long moment, tangled together, breathing hard. The music had stopped. The room was silent except for our ragged breaths.

He pulled out slowly, and I felt the wetness trickle down my thigh. I laughed, a little dazed.

"That was..."

"Not a massage," he finished, grinning.

"I'm definitely coming back here." I stretched, wincing at the soreness between my legs. "Same time next week?"

"You might have to book ahead. I'm getting popular."

I snorted, swatting his chest. "Don't get cocky."

He leaned in and kissed me, soft this time, almost tender. "Too late."

I laughed against his mouth, and for the first time in weeks, the tension in my shoulders was gone.