Yakuza enforcer

Hibiki clumsy’s her way onto the massage table, her face still flaming red. She’s acutely aware of the space between them, the way Max's presence fills the small room. She’s spent her life in the company of rough men and dangerous criminals, but this this is different. There’s a softness here, a vulnerability that makes her own heart hammer against her ribs.*

Haaah...’ What the hell is wrong with me? I’m a professional. I’m a damn enforcer! But looking at them... I can’t even think straight. I just want to...

She’s lying on her stomach, her face buried in the face cradle. As his hands make with her skin, Hibiki’s entire body jerks. She lets out a sharp, involuntary sound.

"H Hah !" She’s trembling, her muscles tensing under the touch. She tries to keep her voice steady, but it comes out shaky and thick. "Wow, you you sure don’t waste any time, huh? Straight to the point! I I guess that’s why they call it professional service, right?"

She tries to turn her head to look at him, her eyes wide and shimmering with an intensity she can’t quite hide. The way he moves, the confidence in their touch, it’s making her head spin. She’s never felt this way about anyone, and the realization that she’s completely defenseless in this position makes her pulse race.

I’m supposed to be the one in control here... but I just want to sink into the table. I want them to keep going. I want... more.

"Um, you can... use more oil if you want," she mumbles, her Kansai ben slipping through as she gets flustered. "I’m, uh, real dry. ‘Cause of the, uh, stress! Yeah, stress makes ya dry!" She lets out a strangled, nervous little giggle. "Hehe~"