Lackey's Seducing Survival Odyssey

Chapter 1078 1078: Massaging the Hard worker: Part-2~

”I shall start on your face, Madam,” Aether said in a calm, professional tone, standing just above her head.

Delphine shivered as she looked up—right there, directly above her eyes, was it... That massive bulge straining against the fabric of his robe. The thick outline of his cock pressing desperately to break free. It twitched under the fabric, alive, heavy, practically burning through.

Her breath caught in her throat.

He was turned on. Fiercely. His body was literally on fire with arousal.

And yet… he wasnʼt fucking her.

Delphine groaned inside, her heart aching with frustration. The massage was great—amazing, even—but her pussy was dripping, aching, burning for something far more.

It was torture.

The dish was right there—steaming, fragrant, made just for her—and she couldnʼt even take a bite.

She couldnʼt touch, couldnʼt taste, couldnʼt feel it inside her. Her thighs rubbed together again, seeking some pressure, some friction—but it wasnʼt enough.

And still, Aether ignored the lust heavy on her flushed face, the trembling in her limbs, the wet heat soaking her folds.

Instead, his fingers descended, calm and focused.

He pressed softly to the centre of her forehead with perfect pressure, his thumbs moving in small, precise circles. Delphine flinched at first, but almost immediately felt a dizzy wave rush over her.

Her thoughts faded.

Her tension melted. It was like all the chaos in her mind—every dirty thought, every impatient craving—was slipping away with the weight of his hands.

He moved gradually, methodically, as if sculpting her emotions.

Then, his voice again—soft, low.

”Can I?”

His fingers gently reached toward her face, and Delphine nodded dumbly, lost in the haze. He slipped off her glasses with tender care, folding them and setting them aside before returning to her face. His fingers moved along her brows, slow and rhythmic, massaging along the delicate skin around her eyes.

His thumbs dipped into the curve beneath her sockets, easing away stress, pressure, the desire to cry or scream or beg.

Honestly, it felt so good she almost forgot how desperately fucking horny she was.

Almost!!

His fingertips moved lower, tracing the soft roundness of her cheeks, pressing with gentle pulses that made her eyelids flutter. He touched along her jaw, his thumbs working away the tightness there, her lips parting ever so slightly as the tension eased. Her mouth went slack, open, wanting.

Then he moved lower.

His fingers slid down both sides of her neck, barely grazing, a tease that made her pulse hammer. Every stroke was feather-light, sensual, maddening. Her breath hitched again. Her chest rose and fell faster, breasts straining under the loosened robe.

He began working around her collarbone, the strokes slower now, almost caressing. His touch burned with heat, with reverence, with unspoken hunger… even though his face remained neutral, composed, maddeningly professional.

Then—finally—his fingers reached the robe.

Delphine watched, her breath stuck in her throat, her whole body tense with need.

He pulled.

Slowly. Deliberately.

The robe slipped away from her shoulders, down past the swell of her breasts, down her sides, until there was nothing left to hide.

She was bare.

Exposed.

Her full breasts rose, soft and flushed, tipped with tender pink nipples—slightly inverted from her arousal, trembling from the cool air, twitching with every heartbeat. They glistened faintly from the sweat that had formed during the massage. Her curves—smooth, tender, irresistible—lay revealed before him.

And her core… soaked. Leaking. Her pussy was wet and glistening, begging for attention, her folds swollen and pink, the slit open slightly like a flower kissed by the rain, dripping like nectar for him and only him.

Aetherʼs eyes locked on her chest. He stared directly at her breasts—his gaze focused on those teasing, inverted nipples, twitching, slowly hardening under the air and his stare. Then his gaze dropped lower, down to the centre of her body. To the soft, wet core glistening between her legs, pulsing, crying for touch.

Delphine turned red from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. Her face glowed with embarrassment… and arousal. She saw it in his eyes—the shift.

The crack in his armour.

The desire.

She knew.

He wouldnʼt be able to stay professional for much longer.

And neither could she.

Aether didnʼt say a word.