The massage had been the beginning of the end. Oh God, those hands and those damn fingers of his!If only he had kept his hands on her neck. Oh, no! No... Michael. Not Mister Magic-Touch. He had to touch all her exposed skin - shoulders, back, ribs, belly, hips, thighs, calves, and feet. And she let him. Damn! He must have planned this from the start.She was relaxed and trusting - so trusting that while he massaged her feet, she stretched back on the couch and let her legs fall open. Her panties. It had been sometime since Demus had reconnected to the Force and was worried that he was rusty. He had never realized how easily it all came back.It was almost as if the Darkside had been waiting for him to open the door. The cold chill of its presence enveloped him sinking into his very bones. A lesser man would have drawn away from it, but that would be merely a sign of weakness.Demus had found comfort the sensation in times past. As long as he had felt its power he had felt strong and safe,. More

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