The rest of the day slips by in a blur of small, easy chaos—the good kind. Coffee gone cold on the table. Shared playlists drifting through the flat, punctuated by half-hearted argumentsover whose taste is superior. Matt stretched out on the sofa, me half-curled into his side while we pretend we’re just killing time.
We talk about nothing and everything, laugh too easily, let the hours slide through our fingers unchecked. And for a moment—just a fragile, precious moment—it’s easy to imagine a future that looks exactly like this.
By the time I’m dressed in a lavender demi-bra, matching thong, thigh highs, and mask, the calm has shifted into something charged. I adjust the camera settings while Matt hovers nearby, “helping,” which mostly consists of leaning against the desk and making heated comments that send shivers down my spine.
“Lavender, huh?” he murmurs, eyes darkening as he takes in the outfit. “I didn’t know we were going full temptation today.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” I say, voice light, but my pulse is racing.
“Liar. You know damn well purple is my favourite colour.”
I bite my lip, letting my fingers brush over the fabric as I adjust the angle of my tripod. “Maybe I like seeing you squirm a little.”
He comes closer, his grin wicked, dark, and dangerous. “See me squirm?’ His voice drops. “Lil’, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
I glance at him over the top of the tripod, heart pounding so hard I can hear it.
“Oh, I have a pretty good idea,” I drawl, letting my eyes linger on the bulge in his jeans. “And I’m counting on it making you feral.”
He swallows, and I can feel it—want, something sharp and electric between us. He steps closer, brushing his fingers lightlyagainst my hip. The touch is teasing, casual, but it makes heat pool low in my belly.
“Feral, huh? Careful, you might get more than you bargain for.”
I tilt my head, challenging him. “I think I can handle it.”
“Youthink, huh?” he echoes, his voice dropping an octave, and suddenly the playful smirk on his lips carries something darker, hungrier. “You’re going to regret saying that.”
I shiver, aware of every brush of his body against mine as he leans over to check the camera angles. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”
He chuckles low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my ear as he straightens just enough for our eyes to meet. “Oh, I plan to. Starting… now.”
I grab the laptop and drag it onto the bed, pushing the pillows into a makeshift setup out of shot so we can read the chat while Matt follows, leaning against the headboard with that infuriatingly smug grin. Watching him slip on the black balaclava and leather gloves, half of me is amused, half of me is painfully aware of how good he looks, even covered up.
“Really?” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “The gloves? You look ridiculous. But also kind of… hot.”
He tilts his head, voice muffled through the fabric. “Hot and mysterious. That’s the vibe we’re going for, right?”
I bite back a laugh, shaking my head. “I think my audience might just die when they see you like this.”
“Then all the better,” he says, shifting closer until the heat from his body presses into mine. “Plus, I like watching you struggle to play it cool.”
I groan, settling into position near the foot of the bed, pulling him with me until we’re both in shot. His gloved hand brushesagainst me, lingering on the small of my back, and I can’t stop the shiver that runs through me.
“Ready?” I ask, glancing at him.
He nods, leaning down so his lips hover just above mine. “As I’ll ever be.”
I click the stream live. Instantly, the chat erupts with greetings, hearts, and excited comments. I glance at the camera and then back at Matt, letting my smile widen.
“Everyone, say hi to a very special guest tonight,” I say, voice teasing, low, and a little breathless. “An old friend you might remember if you’ve been here since the start.”
JimsCuntDestroyer:Oh fuck yeah, this is going to be good.
AdamsLadder:Have your tits gotten bigger? I want to see my cock stuffed between them.
MistressE:Oh, darling, you spoil us.
Matt leans back slightly, tilting his head, the balaclava hiding half his expression but not the mischief in his eyes.
