Page 83 of Scarred

Her back is to me with her brunette hair pulled back in her usual ponytail. My eyes trail down her body, and instead of leggings, she’s wearing these black, tiny yoga shorts that I’ve seen her dance in, paired with a matching sports bra. It accentuates her already perfect ass into the eighth fucking wonder of the world. I’m quickly becoming obsessed with everything about her, and it’s a problem that I can’t seem to control.

The soft click of the lock has her turning around, her green eyes finding mine.

Images of her on her knees with my cock buried inside her sweet mouth burn in the back of my mind, and from the way her eyes darken slightly, she’s remembering our last encounter too.

I told myself that the connection wasn’t as strong as I remembered.

That this need for her would lessen once I had my night with her, but seeing her now tells me she’s nowhere near out of my system. If anything, it makes me want her more.

“I half expected you to bail on me,” she finally says, nervously fingering the dainty gold necklace around her neck.

“What can I say?” I smirk. “I love to torture myself.”

I set my keys down and remove my socks and shoes before pulling my t-shirt over my head. If I have to suffer with her ass in those shorts for the next hour, she can deal with me shirtless.

Her eyes automatically roam over me, and I feel my heart thud harder against my chest.

“Yoga isn’t supposed to be torture,” she giggles. “It may feel like it sometimes, but in the end, you should feel more amazing when you leave than when you first got here.”

“Tell that to my dick, seeing you in that outfit,” I grumble.

Her eyes glance down at my gym shorts, and it’s clearly obvious I have no control over my body when it comes to her.

She bites her lip, and her dimple peeks out as she tries to hide her smile. Glad one of us is finding this humorous.

“Shall we get started?” She asks, her eyes brimming with a playfulness that makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and say to hell with the session.

But I promised my coach I would stick with it now that he knows it’s helping. I owe it to the team to see this through if it can help my performance in any way. I’ve dealt with uncomfortable situations and pain before in training and can get through this even if my body is two seconds away from snapping.

“By all means,” I say, gesturing for her to take a seat on the mat as I follow and settle down beside her.

She guides me into breathwork, but it’s different today. My senses are more heightened and aware of her presence. It’s like I’m feeding off of her energy and can easily merge my breaths with hers.

It’s a very sensual and erotic feeling to just lie there and really share space with someone on a deeper level without even touching. It’s a type of intense foreplay that I’ve never experienced before.

Her voice guides me into a few poses, and I notice her touches are more intimate than they used to be. She’s still doing her job, but she’s letting herself really take advantage of the moment, which I have zero problems with as her body presses into my back, her breasts grazing my skin, as she gently deepens the stretch using her weight to pull me deeper into the pose.

My hips stretch and open, and fuck if that doesn’t feel amazing as I feel myself loosen in that area.

“Feel good,” she whispers, close to my ear, and I don’t miss the seductive tone to her voice.

“You have no idea,” I groan, as her fingers knead my lower back and hips that have been sealed tight for the past few years.

“Good,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “Let’s move to the next pose and go even deeper. Turn over,” she instructs, removing her hands from my body and reaching over to grab the straps.

I turn over and watch her through hooded eyes as she pulls the strap under my back and adjusts it under my feet, butterflying me until I feel a deep stretch in my hips.

“Let me know if it’s too tight. I want you to feel a deep stretch, but there shouldn’t be any pain.” She sits back and observes me, and I shake my head.

“No pain.”

“Perfect,” she smiles. I see her hesitate briefly before her knees are straddling my feet, and her hands are back on me again, except this time, I get a full view of her breasts pushed up in that bra. Her cheeks are a nice shade of rosy red as the temperature in the room rises ten degrees hotter.

Pressing on my thighs, she opens me up more and works more tension out of my body. My breathwork goes all to hell as I try to control my breathing through my nose.

“Do all your clients get this kind of special treatment?” I ask, peering at her under my eyelashes.

“No,” she blushes, and my cock gets harder. “I’m being totally unprofessional here, but since we already crossed the line between client and teacher, I thought I could get away with giving you a little more special treatment. It’s not like I’m touching something I haven’t before,” she says, amusement laced in her voice as she continues to lean over me and work her magic on my body.