The sun sank into the darkening ocean, washing the lush green island in gold. I barely noticed.

Barefoot, I walked across the white, glittering sand. To actually feel the small grains — not just see them, hear them shift, or imagine the warmth — felt unreal. Too good.

I shut the thought down before it dragged me under. I couldn't lose this. Not yet. So I locked onto the only thing ahead. The amber-glowing tent.

Booking a private session with Thalia, the retreat's most sought-after erotic massage therapist, wasn't about curiosity anymore. That was long dead. All that was left now was need. Restless. Crawling under my skin.

After months of rotting in numbness, I was desperate to feel. Not just anything. It had to be something strong. I didn't just hope — I clung to the belief — that cumming after what felt like forever might finally break me open and pull life back in.

I had no one left after the accident. No warmth. No real touch. This was the only way to feel close to someone again. Even if it was just an illusion, I was ready to fall for it.

The broad canvas tent loomed at the edge of the beach. Only the front flap swayed lazily in the gentle breeze while the rigid walls held still, catching the last blush of twilight. A faint glow leaked from within, more a lure than an invitation.

I slipped inside, holding my breath.

Thalia stood by the massage table, adjusting the towel with casual ease. A sheer silvery robe hung loosely on her. It didn't cover much. Wasn't meant to.

Her red hair drank in the low light, rich as polished copper, spilling over one shoulder in loose waves. Against her pale skin, the color didn't just stand out. It dared.

When she turned toward me, I froze. Her eyes, stormy grey melting into soft green, locked on mine. The smile that followed was effortless, almost careless, like certainty lived in her bones. I missed that.

It's the simple things you miss the most. Standing. Moving. Meeting someone's eyes without bracing for the pity or the whispers.

"You're right on time," Thalia said, her velvet-smooth voice pulling me back to the moment.

I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

Her lips, full and softly tinted, parted as she untied her robe and let it fall. My eyes dropped before I could stop them. Her breasts were full and heavy, the delicate pink of her nipples vivid against pale skin. They rose and fell slowly as she breathed, tightening subtly with each inhale, the soft edges darkening as they peaked.

My eyes followed the smooth line of her waist and the bold curve where her hips flared wide. Lower still, a wild, fiery patch framed her sex, untamed and soft-looking. I stared too long, unable to tear my eyes away. All I could think about was touching it, feeling it give beneath my fingertips.

Thalia was made to hold attention. Right then, she owned all of mine.

"Make yourself comfortable," she said, her lips curving slightly.

I let my plush white hotel robe slip off my shoulders and eased onto the table, trying to remain calm. But once I lay down, embarrassment struck hard.

My body wasn't perfect like hers. My butt felt too big, my thighs too soft, and my breasts too small. And then there were the uneven scars, cutting across my skin, louder now than ever. I hated how much they revealed, telling a story I wasn't ready to share.

But Thalia didn't even blink. She poured oil into her hands and began gently gliding her fingers over my shoulders and down my arms.

"Breathe deeply," she murmured.

I tried. The air tightened in my chest as her hands moved lower, pressing lightly at first, then more firmly as they followed my back. As she pressed down the center of my spine, a sound slipped out, sharper and deeper than a sigh, cutting through the silence.

"That's it," Thalia murmured, slower this time, her voice rich with approval. "Let it happen. You're doing beautifully."

Her hands slid down my sides, over my legs, then back up, goosebumps chasing her touch. She moved over my scars without pausing. Without hesitation. No pity. As if they didn't exist.

When she concentrated on my hips, her thumbs sank deep into the soft curves. I bit my lip as the pulsing heat spread between my legs, rising with each firm sweep of her hands over my ass. All I could think about now were those long fingers... I needed them filling me.

Wetness spilled over, dripping down my clit. I held my breath and fought not to moan, but my body had already betrayed me.

"Good girl," Thalia whispered. "You're ready now."

I could only make a broken sound, unable to form words.

Her hands moved to my inner thighs, her touch gentle as she teased the sensitive skin, inching closer to where I burned for her. When her fingers finally brushed my swollen nub, pleasure stole my breath and sent my hips jerking off the table.

"Ah," Thalia breathed. "You really do like that."

Her sultry voice wrapped tight around me, dragging me deeper.

"Yes," I gasped.

"Good. You're so eager. I know you'll love my surprise."

I had no clue what she meant. Didn't matter. Every nerve felt stretched, need pooling low and heavy in my belly, making it impossible to think of anything but how badly I wanted her to finish this. Now.

But Thalia didn't rush. Her fingers moved in lazy, measured circles, spreading my slickness across my engorged labia. She stroked my pearl with a maddening restraint, feather-light and fleeting, never giving me enough. Pressure built up inside, tightening everything until my whole body throbbed.

"Please," I moaned, the word torn from me. "I need—"

"Mmm." She hummed, cutting me off. "I know. But you'll get it when I decide."

The way she took control didn't just push me. It pulled me apart. My pleasure was hers now. I couldn't hold anything back.

"Turn over, please," Thalia said firmly.

Rolling over felt impossibly slow. Each movement peeled me open, leaving nothing hidden.

I lay still, skin prickling as Thalia's eyes dragged over every curve, leaving me bare in a way no touch ever had.

Holding my gaze, she leaned in and cupped my breasts. Her thumbs circled slowly, coaxing my nipples until they stiffened into tender buds of desire.

Warm oil followed, flowing in a silky ribbon across my chest, painting heat everywhere it touched. Her hands chased it, kneading and teasing until I was left panting. A soft hum of approval escaped her.

Her fingers slid lower, wandering over my stomach in deliberate paths before tracing a slow loop around my navel, her smoky green eyes locking on mine.

"Relax," Thalia said, her tone playful.

I knew what was coming.

My eyes fluttered shut as her oil-slick fingers drifted lower. They roamed over my smooth mound, gliding dangerously close to my clit, the near-misses making me tremble.

I moaned shamelessly. Soft, pleading sounds slipped free as her fingers tormented my drenched folds.

When she finally pressed against my aching clit, it was barely enough, yet still too much. My breath caught, my whole body tense. Then she pulled away, leaving me clenching around nothing, walls fluttering in anguished want.

"Open yourself to me," Thalia murmured, eyes heavy-lidded.

I obeyed, spreading my legs wider, offering myself to her.

Thalia pushed three fingers inside me, stretching me perfectly as my walls clung tight around her. Pleasure surged through me as she moved with steady, building force, her thumb grinding against my clit with devastating focus.

I hung by a thread, fragile and fraying. One more touch, and I would fall.

"Oh, yes. Let it go."

Her words unraveled me. My body convulsed, seized by the vicious heat that tore through every nerve, crashing down in fierce, blinding waves until I couldn't hold on anymore.

Thalia didn't stop. Her fingers kept moving, her thumb working my clit in merciless strokes, pulling every last spasm from my overstimulated body until I lay limp and breathless.

As my heartbeat slowed and my body melted into the table, Thalia leaned over me, her naked skin pressing close, breasts sliding softly against mine.

"This is just the beginning," she whispered, then capturing my mouth in a deep, unhurried kiss.

Her body pressed tight to mine, every warm curve molding perfectly. I longed for more. But deep down, I wasn't sure she could give it.

Thalia pulled back slowly, eyes gleaming.

"You'll get everything you need," she said, like it was already decided. "There's still so much more to discover on this island." Her smile was almost wicked. "Enjoy what's left."

With a playful wink, she slipped out, leaving the tent hushed and heavy with her absence. Thalia had eased the ache, but hadn't come close to satisfying it.

Outside, the soft hum of insects and distant cries of jungle birds drifted through the quiet as I lay there with my eyes closed, still simmering.

The soft rustle of fabric stirred me from the haze. I blinked, my heart pounding as I turned. Wide eyes locked on me with unguarded surprise.

You.

Heat hit me like a slap. My body knew before my mind caught up. The man I wanted. The one I craved in secret.

You weren't supposed to be here. Off limits. Not mine.

And yet... here you were, bare-chested, a towel hanging low on your hips. So close. Too close. Everything I wasn't supposed to touch, right there, daring me to just take it.

My skin prickled everywhere, sharply aware of how exposed I was. I should have reached for the thin sheet and tried to cover myself. I didn't.

Your gaze traveled down my naked body, lingering on the oil slick on my breasts, then dropped lower. Between my parted thighs. The glistening nether lips held your attention. I pressed my legs together on instinct. Too late.

A beat of thick silence. Then you stepped closer, voice rough. "I... Thalia sent me."

I swallowed hard. "You work here?"

You shifted, uncomfortable. "Yeah. I need the money. But... it's you."

You didn't want me.

I sat up fast, arms crossing over my chest. Heat flushed under my skin as I covered my breasts, tension winding through me. Then I saw it. The towel did nothing to hide the bulge. Thick. Straining.

Your face flushed when you caught me staring. You cleared your throat, fighting for control.

"So..." you began, voice tight. "Did you enjoy it so far?"

"I... I did. The massage was... intense."

You advanced, cutting the distance to a hand's width.

"But I think we both know," you said, voice low, "it's not the same as the real thing."

Then you closed in fully. No space left.

"I've wanted this," you confessed, fingers curling tight around my wrists.

You guided my hands down, forcing me to bare my breasts. My nipples tightened instantly, yearning for your touch, so hard they almost throbbed in the cool air.

"I've fantasized about you," you said, lips curling into that cocky grin that always got under my skin. "About us. "

I saw it in your gaze. Not want. Need. You were dying for this. And so was I.

"I'm not here to just rub you down."

Your hands closed over my breasts, rough and greedy, fingers sinking into soft flesh, daring me to take it as hard as you were ready to give. I did. Arms wrapping around your neck, I crashed into you, pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

My mind had run wild with fantasies about your lips for ages. Now they were mine. I didn't just kiss. I devoured. Tasting you deep, swallowing every groan you made.

As the kiss deepened, my hands slid down your chest, impatient for more. I found the towel and tugged it without thinking, ready to see all of you.

You grabbed my ass, dragging me flush against you, pulling me right to the edge of the table. Your swollen tip ground against my soaked slit, smearing precum where I was already dripping.

I broke the kiss, breathless. "I want you. Now."

That was all it took. You lost it.

With a rough thrust, you drove deep, filling me in one hard push. I cried out at the sharp, overwhelming stretch, my legs locking tight around your waist.

You slammed into me again, bodies colliding hard, filthy, and desperate. I clung tight, nails digging in as you pounded me ruthlessly. The friction was savage. Wet. Relentless. Every thrust hit deep, making my thighs tremble as I gasped.

"You feel so fucking good," you groaned, panting against my mouth. "So fucking wet... squeezing me like you want every drop inside you."

Before I could even say yes, your mouth crashed back onto mine, tongue claiming and silencing me. Your hands clamped down on my ass, fingers digging cruelly deep, sure to leave marks.

Without breaking the kiss, you hauled me across the tent and dropped me onto the bed. I barely hit the sheets before you forced my thighs apart and shoved between them, ready to ruin me. And I couldn't wait.

You rammed into me hard, ripping a broken scream from my throat as sharp pleasure and raw pain collided, turning vicious and addictive.

I held on tight, my head snapping back, breath shredded as your cock punched deep over and over. There was no thinking. Just your body hammering into mine, splitting me wide and stuffing me full until it burned in the best way.

I couldn't stop it. Didn't want to. I wasn't broken anymore. I was wanted. Fucked like a woman, not handled like something fragile.

You didn't ease up. You didn't slow. You just kept driving in, smashing against that spot that made me twitch and gasp and lose track of everything but you.

"Yes, like that," I moaned, nails raking down your back as you fucked me harder, losing all control. "Harder."

You gave it to me. Every brutal thrust drove me closer to the edge, ready to snap.

"I'm close... fuck, I'm gonna—" you choked out.

"Yes," I panted. "Do it. Come inside me. I need it."

With a final, powerful thrust, you gave in, groaning as your cock throbbed deep, spilling inside me in hot, messy bursts. That was it. I came with you, walls clenching tight, wringing every last drop from you as pleasure soared through me.

Everything broke apart. I fell with it, boneless and dazed, my mind floating, lost in the aftershocks rolling through my used-up body.

It was quiet now. Easy. Like the world had finally let me breathe.

You stayed inside me, buried deep like you couldn't let go. I didn't want you to.

I lay there, full of you in every way. And for the first time since everything fell apart, I felt good. Right. Here. With you.

The shift hit hard. One second, low shadows and soft skin, the next harsh glare and the sharp bite of antiseptic.

The pleasure hadn't fully faded yet, but it felt cruel now. Useless.

I couldn't move. The weight was back, heavy and final. My legs were silent and numb.

The game was over. No more escape.

I was empty again. Unwanted. Untouched.

Ethan, my physiotherapist, stood by the bed holding the virtual reality headset. Flesh and blood. Real. Not you.

Shit! Ethan!

Heat burned up my neck. Had I lost track of time? Or had he shown up early? Either way, I just hoped he couldn't tell.

"I know you've been down since the accident, but playing games all day isn't the answer."

His voice carried that soft scold people used when they thought they knew best.

"Not like I can exactly walk out and meet people," I muttered, eyes fixed anywhere but on him.

Silence. No usual lecture about attitude or recovery. I glanced up. His eyes were locked on something beside me. My stomach dropped.

The slim remote sat right there, glowing faint and damning. I went pale, snatching it up with stiff fingers and killing the power, feeling the last faint pulse from the probe fade out deep inside me.

I forced myself to meet his eyes. Surprise flashed there, but amusement took over fast. He knew.

"Oh." Ethan didn't bother hiding the grin. The same one that undid me in the game. "I see."

Shit! Shit! Shit!

"You know," he went on, way too upbeat, "you can leave your pelvic floor stimulator on if you're not finished."

"No—" I blurted, mortified.

"Seriously." His grin deepened, clearly enjoying this. "It won't interfere with our session."

"No," I said again, quieter this time.

"Alright, alright."

He set the VR headset aside, still playful as he stepped back. The grin faded, replaced by his usual professional focus.

"Let's start with some gentle stretching and range-of-motion exercises. We'll focus on what your body can do, not what it can't."

I nodded as he knelt beside the bed. The soft grey sports top and cropped leggings gave me cover, hiding the scars that still felt too raw to show. Though by now, he knew every inch of them.

His hands were steady as he took my leg, lifting and bending it at the knee and hip. I didn't feel his skin, only the shift and weightlessness as he moved me.

Ethan worked quietly, guiding my limp leg through the routine with careful, practiced control.

"Tell me if anything feels off, okay?"

I cleared my throat. "I can't feel much."

"Your muscles still need care."

His words were professional. His tone wasn't. But it wasn't just him. I was still stuck in that tent, my body too wound up to forget. The probe stayed buried inside me, every subtle movement sparking fresh awareness.

As he shifted to my other leg, insistent heat bloomed low, impossible to ignore. Ethan's hands never faltered, but his gaze flicked to my face more than once. He was so close. Close enough for me to catch the sharp scent of his aftershave. And my mind wouldn't stop slipping back. To the island. To you. To him.

"Just a few more reps and we'll be done for today."

I nodded, but my focus was gone. I wasn't there anymore. In my head, I felt Ethan — pushing me down, taking me, fucking me until I shattered.

"Are you okay?" Ethan asked, his brow creasing as his eyes locked onto my flushed face and shallow breaths.

Then his gaze dropped, lingering on the wet spot staining my light grey leggings. His lips twitched.

"I'm... fine," I managed, barely. "Just a little warm."

He only smiled and finished up the session.

"I think we made real progress. You'll be ready for the spinal implant surgery soon."

I forced a smile, my cheeks still hot. "Yeah... progress," I echoed, though the word felt hollow.

Ethan never gave up on me. He was there through the brain implant surgery and everything that followed. Without it, I couldn't escape like this.

The AI-powered headset connected through the implant, feeding straight into my mind, bypassing dead nerves and useless limbs. It gave me what I craved, even the things I barely admitted to myself.

Thalia was programmed. Just part of the game. A way to study me. But you? Pure imagination. And in that world, I wasn't damaged. I wasn't a patient. I was just... human. Kinda ironic.

It made sense that Ethan had slipped into my fantasies. He was the only one who touched me in months. Not like the nurses. They gripped and shifted me like dead weight, treating me as just another task to get through. Ethan didn't. His touch reminded me I was more than a body. I was still a person.

And maybe the spinal implant would link with the brain implant. Maybe I'd walk again.

As he headed for the door, I spoke without thinking. "Ethan... thank you."

He paused, turning back with a warm smile. "You're welcome. It's my job to help you heal." His gaze held mine a little too long. "You're a beautiful woman. Even if the experimental treatment doesn't work, I doubt you'll be single for long."

I smiled, and he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Maybe Ethan was right. Maybe someone could still want me.

Scars, broken parts, and all.

Maybe somebody already did.

THE END

I’d love to hear what you think, so please feel free to leave a comment and like if you enjoyed the story.