FREE USE in Primitive World - Chapter 364: A Special Massage Technique
Chapter 364: Chapter 364: A Special Massage Technique
“Just a special massage technique,” Sol whispered, leaning over her.
Holy shit, Sol thought, staring at his hands. It actually works like that? He was genuinely shocked. The power was absurdly effective. He thought it wouldn’t be much effective against her, a literal high shaman, as higher the strength, the more resistance there is.
But contrary to his expectations, he could physically feel the rigid tension in her back completely dissolving under his hands. But more than that, he could feel the mental resistance dropping. The sharp, guarded aura of the High Shaman was melting away, replaced by a heavy, pliable compliance.
Screw holding back, Sol thought, a dark, hungry smirk crossing his face.
He got much bolder. He leaned over her, his chest brushing lightly against her bare back. He let more of the silver power flow through his hands as he slid them down the long, smooth curve of her spine, pressing his thumbs into the deep grooves of her muscles.
Zephyra let out a ragged, heavy moan. Her hips squirmed restlessly against the woven mat. The mature, commanding High Shaman was completely coming apart under his touch.
“Goddess…” Zephyra breathed, her voice thick, wet, and totally breathless. “What… what are you doing?”
“Just clearing your pathways,” Sol whispered smoothly, leaning down so his lips brushed against her ear. “Like I promised.”
He dug his thumbs into the dimples of her lower back, right at the edge of the skimpy linen wrap. He pulsed the silver power again, a heavy, intoxicating wave that made her shudder violently from head to toe.
“Sol…” she gasped, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. Her silver eyes were completely glazed over with heat, confusion, and raw, dripping desire. Her breathing was starting to get frantic, her heavy chest heaving against the mat.
The sweltering heat of the room, the smell of her sweat, and the total, pliant surrender of the most powerful and beautiful woman in the tribe completely shattered Sol’s remaining restraint. He slid his hands around her waist, pulling her hips flush against his knees.
She didn’t resist. She arched back into his touch with a desperate, hungry whine, completely ensnared by the strange silver power and the heavy, intoxicating tension escalating rapidly between them.
Sol didn’t hold back anymore.
He had the most powerful woman in the Veynar tribe pinned right between his knees, entirely at his mercy, melting into a puddle of compliant, heavy heat. The silver essence of the Free Use power poured from the hollow space in his core, coating his bare, calloused hands like an invisible, intoxicating oil.
He slid his palms all the way back up her spine, pressing hard, letting his thumbs dig into the thick grooves of her back muscles. The slick layer of sweat coating her flawless skin made the friction absolute torture in the best way possible.
And he wasn’t really lying, after using this ’massage’ technique many times combined with his previous life’s memories of massage and enhanced senses thanks to his power ups, it wasn’t wrong to say, he was really proficient, much better than so called massage masters on earth.
It was a heavy, gliding controlled pressure that forcibly squeezed the deep, aching exhaustion right out of her meat.
Zephyra’s back arched violently against his hands. Her fingernails dug deep into the woven floor mat, her knuckles turning bone-white.
She was a High Shaman.
She was used to wielding the terrifying, violent wrath of the Great Orrath, pulling lightning from the sky and breaking the earth. But right now, her entire world was aggressively reduced to the heavy, burning pressure of Sol’s thumbs.
He reached her shoulders, kneading the tight, rigid knots at the base of her neck. He pushed the silver essence deep into her stiff joints, bypassing her skin entirely and soaking directly into her nervous system.
“Ah… ahh…” A ragged, completely shameless moan tore out of Zephyra’s throat. She couldn’t even keep her face lifted off the mat anymore. She buried her forehead into her crossed arms, her breath coming in short, frantic, wet gasps.
Sol ran his hands down the smooth, toned length of her arms. He gripped her wrists, feeling her pulse hammering like a trapped bird under her skin.
He slowly traced his thumbs over her knuckles, tangling his thick fingers with hers. He pinned her hands lightly to the mat, spreading her arms out. It was a subtle, physical display of complete dominance that sent another visible shudder ripping straight down her spine.
“You’re holding a lot of tension here, High Shaman,” Sol whispered. His voice was thick, rough, and vibrating with a dark hunger. He leaned his weight down, his broad chest pressing flush against her hot, damp back. He could feel the heavy, frantic pounding of her heart right through her ribcage.
“It’s… it’s too much…” Zephyra stammered, her words slurring together drunkenly. Her mind was completely clouded, drunk on the euphoric silver power flooding her pathways. “Sol… what is…”
“Shh. Don’t think about it. Just let it go.”
He released her hands and dragged his palms slowly, agonizingly down her sides. He traced the curve of her ribs, his thumbs brushing just along the outer edges of her heavy breasts, feeling the soft weight of them pressed against the floor. He could feel her nipples tighten into hard, aching peaks right through the wet linen wrap beneath her.
Zephyra let out a sharp, high-pitched whine, her hips bucking up off the mat entirely on primal instinct. She ground herself backward against his kneeling thighs, desperately chasing the friction, completely surrendering to the heavy, primal heat taking over her brain.
Sol’s breath hitched hard in his throat. His Sun Core was absolutely roaring, the aggressive yang energy boiling his blood like a furnace. The feel of her lush, mature body squirming blindly under him was driving him completely insane.
But he controlled himself, he wanted to make her even more desperate, so much so that she begged him herself.
