Page 24 of The Alpha's Sin
I can feel a blush creeping up on my face.
”Th-thank you,” I stammer. “But you don’t have to say that.”
“I’m going to tell you that you’re beautiful whether you like it or not, kitten,” he growls softly. “And to me, you’re always beautiful. So you might as well get used to it.”
I’m not sure what to say to that but Logan picks up the lotion bottle and squirts some into his palm. He rubs his hands together, warming it.
“Turn over,” he tells me. “We’ll start with your back.”
I do as he says, glad that I already put my hair up. A minute later I feel his big, warm hands rubbing and squeezing my shoulders. He pauses for a moment to push my bra straps down and then starts again, drawing a moan from my lips. God, he’s good at this! His hands are so big and warm—he kneads me in just the right away. I can feel my tension melting as he works on me.
But the next minute it spikes again, along with my temperature. He plucks at the back of my bra, where it closes with a neat line of hooks and eyes.
“Can I unfasten this?” he asks me. “It would make it easier to do your whole back.”
“I…I guess so. Yes,” I say, my voice shaking.
“Good girl,” he murmurs and I feel a rush of pleasure. Then he’s unfastening my bra and pulling it apart, baring my entire back.
He spends a long time on my back and shoulders before moving down to my hips and legs. He doesn’t touch my butt—though I wouldn’t mind if he did. I feel tense and tight there too.
His long fingers do knead my upper thighs, though—right where they meet my butt. I moan a little and spread my legs, letting him know I don’t mind. Logan takes the hint and massages inward, just a little. For a minute I swear I can feel him brushing my pussy lips. Then one big hand comes to rest on my ass.
“Poppy?” he asks, making my name a question.
“Yes…go ahead.” I wiggle a little. “You can…can pull down my panties too,” I add, though I don’t know where I get the nerve to say so. “I mean, if…if they’re getting in the way.”
“They are.” He slips his fingers into the waistband and I feel him pulling them down. A cool breeze hits my bare ass and I moan softly.
Logan pulls my panties down to mid thigh and I spread my legs wider and tilt my pelvis up. I can feel his eyes on me—I know he must be able to see my pussy this way. I find the thought embarrassing…but also incredibly hot. I wiggle some more.
“You can…can take them all the way off, if you want to,” I say, breathlessly. “I mean, Dr. Elizabeth did say you should massage my inner thighs.”
“Yes, she did, didn’t she?” he growls softly. And then he’s stripping my panties all the way down and sliding them off my ankles.
I moan and spread my thighs even wider for him. I can feel my pussy lips parting as he starts massaging again, this time rubbing my ass and then my inner thighs.
He’s not touching me deliberately—at least, I don’t think he is—but his knuckles are brushing my outer pussy lips and sending little shocks of pleasure right through me. I keep wishing he would touch me more—that he’d stroke inside me and slip those long fingers into my pussy to rub my aching clit. But I can’t say that, even though my body is begging for it.
I don’t know how long he goes on with the slow, inner thigh massage—long enough for me to be afraid I might make a wet spot on the dark blue duvet. But finally he says,
“All right, kitten—time to turn over.”
I do as he says, but first I take my bra all the way off. I don’t know how I have to nerve to do this—to be completely naked for him. I’m glad the room is dim and there’s just a single shaded lamp on the far nightstand turned on. But I’m so hot I can’t seem to help myself.
Logan seems to like what he sees because his eyes go lazy with lust.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” he growls softly. “Thank you for trusting me to touch you…to massage you.”
“I like it when you touch me,” I tell him shyly. “It feels so good.”
“Just trying to make sure we follow the doctor’s orders,” he murmurs and gets more lotion on his hands. He starts on my arms but I wiggle restlessly.
“Dr. Elizabeth said you should massage my breasts,” I remind him breathlessly. “To help avoid stretch marks when they get bigger.”
“You mean when they fill with milk?” He raises his eyebrows at me.
“I…I guess so.” I nod. I like this idea, for some reason—the idea of my breasts being full of milk makes me feel like some kind of fertility goddess. But right now, I just want his big hands on me.
