Chapter 98: You’re a Pervert.
Lucas continued his work in silence, his hands never faltering in their gentle but purposeful rhythm. Each motion was guided not only by touch but by a fine-tuned awareness of her body’s Qi flow. He moved with the precision of someone who had studied both anatomy and spiritual circulation, pressing just firmly enough to unlock stiffness without inducing strain. His fingers worked over the arch of her foot again, then along her ankles and up the curve of her calf, moving with slow, practiced confidence.
As his infused Yang energy entered her system in steady pulses, the effect was no longer just physical. A subtle heat was beginning to rise within her, one that had little to do with pain relief or healing. Nyx’s breathing shifted, no longer the calm exhale of earlier. It was shallower now, with a faint hitch at the end. Her fingers curled slightly against the edge of the table, and her eyes fluttered for a moment.
She shifted her weight uneasily, an odd growing restlessness she couldn’t quite rationalize. Her heart had started to beat faster, not in alarm, but in some other unnamed anticipation. It made her uneasy.
"What are you doing to me, Xavier?" she asked, her voice low but sharp-edged, as if trying to sound composed even as it trembled faintly.
Lucas, still kneeling at the edge of the table, kept his expression calm. His hands didn’t pause.
"I’m only massaging you, Princess," he said evenly. "Soothing your meridians, releasing tension... If it’s too much, I can stop."
Nyx didn’t respond immediately. A long pause hung in the air between them, filled only by the quiet stirrings of her breath and the distant chirp of garden crickets outside the windows.
Finally, her voice returned, quieter this time. "No... continue."
Lucas gave a soft nod, then shifted his hands slightly. "You’ll need to turn over," he said, his tone still clinical. "So I can continue properly. Your back channels are likely more blocked than the front."
Nyx hesitated. Just a breath. Then, wordlessly, she turned over. Her movements were slow, as though she was already aware of how her body might betray her. The fabric of her under-robe clung faintly to the curves of her body as she settled against the table again.