Monthly Bonus #1 - Unexpected Experience (Morgan's Summer Scenario) (Patreon)

A wall of bamboo blocks any view of the room beyond. The scent of vanilla and lavender waft in gentle waves across the waiting area, and I breathe in the aroma, allowing the gentleness of it to soothe my body.

After months of constant stress and tension, I hadn’t realized just how much of a ball of knotted nerves I’d become.

But sitting here in the quiet space of the spa, watching glittering fish in an aquarium glide back and forth, and listening to the peaceful chime of music, it’s almost easy to forget everything that’s happened.

“Huh,” the gruff voice from beside me sounds.

I look over at Morgan, her lean body enrobed in a fluffy white gown, as she eyes me with a brow arched. “What?”

“Your heartbeat has dropped,” she notes.

I chuckle. “Well, that just means that this spa break is already working.”

“For you maybe.” Her nose wrinkles. “This vanilla-drenched, touch-feely, gown-enforced hell space isn’t exactly my idea of a vacation.”

“But you said you wanted to come with me?” I remind her with a frown. “You insisted, in fact.”

“With you,” she says with inflection. “I just wanted to be near you.”

I try to ignore the way those words send my previously calmed emotions into a spiral and sit up straighter in the padded chair. “Did you want to leave? We could go back to the room—”

She shakes her head. “No. Farah promised me this would be an experience. So, I’m holding her to that.”

I laugh softly, but our conversation is interrupted by someone dressed in a two-piece lilac uniform walking to our side.

“Are you both ready?” the man asks with a welcoming smile, gesturing out to a door on the other side of the room.

I look over at Morgan again. “Are you?”

She shrugs. “We’re about to find out.”

We stand from the chairs and follow the man into the room, blasted by another billow of floral-scented goodness as we go.

-

Inside the room, the two masseurs ask us to drop our robes to our waists and climb onto the prepared tables face down.

Morgan hesitates at the doorway, but eventually does as asked when I don’t hesitate to do so myself.

It’s easy to relax here. The safety and comfort of the space is enhanced by the trickling of a water feature running around the perimeter of the room and candles flickering gently in the corners.

Every memory of what’s happened sinks away as I let in the tranquility of the room and focus on just being here, in this moment, with Morgan.

“May I begin?” my masseur asks, and I give a relaxed grunt of agreement as my body sinks into the comfort of the table. Within seconds, the tension and balls of stress acting like knotted webs across my body begin to drain away at the man’s skill.

I’m nearly half asleep when voices draw me back from the edge of blissful slumber.

“In order for the massage to have effect, you will need to relax,” the masseur suggests.

“I’m trying,” Morgan retorts through a growl.

Snapping my eyes open, I watch my grumpy vampire on the table beside mine as her whole body is tight and tense. Every time the masseur’s fingers draw closer, Morgan immediately flinches, teeth gritted.

“Wait,” I blurt, flicking out my hand as I sit up, wrapping my robe around me. The masseurs look at me, instantly backing away. I lift one shoulder with an apologetic smile. “She…doesn’t enjoy being touched.”

They glance at each other in a very obvious silent communication of, ‘Then why is she even having a massage?’ before looking back at me.

“Do you mind if I…?” I gesture at Morgan, whose fingers are gripping the table so hard I can hear the metal creak and strain beneath her grasp.

The masseurs smile with nods, one of them passing me the bottle of oil he’s holding. “Of course.”

Waiting for them to exit, I turn to Morgan, watching as her fingers uncurl from the edge of the bed once the door clicks fully closed.

“Now what?” she asks, still planted chest down on the table but with her head turned to face me.

“Can I give it a try? Or will that be too much?” I ask, holding up the bottle, slick with a coating of oil.

Morgan licks at her lips before nodding and placing her head back in the cushioned hole.

I move closer, dripping some of the oil onto my palm before placing it down and rubbing my hands together. It’s silky soft and warm against my skin, soothing me before I even place it onto Morgan.

“Here we go,” I say in warning before gently laying my hands onto her shoulders. My fingers spread across her back, feeling the muscles flex and relax beneath my touch. She’s so human in so many aspects that it’s almost too easy to forget what she is. But feeling the obvious power that radiates beneath her skin is a quick reminder that she is definitely not human.

I continue working the oil over her freckled skin, kneading my fingers into the areas of tension and feeling—with satisfaction—how they disappear quickly at my touch.

Before long, I can drag my fingers down each limb and feel them go happily limp, can press where the muscles were solid and sense them immediately relax, even feel the heightened pounding of her pulse turn to a gentle thrum.

“Well?” I ask, leaning over to see her reaction as I continue to work. “Is this the experience you thought it would be?” She doesn’t answer, so I lean down further. “Morgan?”

Beneath the table, her face is smoothed of any worry lines, and sleep relaxes every feature. Not once since I’ve known her have I ever seen her just so…peaceful. I can’t help a small triumphant smile to myself.

Maybe it wasn’t the massage I’d been hoping for, but it certainly seems like it was the one Morgan needed.

---

It was fun writing how this went from one of M's worst nightmares to their heaven, all due to how the MC handled it for them!

(Fun fact: The conversation between M and the massuer about relaxing for it to work is pulled from real life in my own exact conversation with a physiotherapist, hehe! I don't do well with being touched either, which is where M gets it from, LOL! )