Page 25 of The Masked King

“What about your nipples?”

“They’re hard.” I don’t need to look down or touch them to know this; I can feel the fabric rubbing on them.

“Slide a finger inside you.” He’s still giving the orders, but his voice has softened a little. “Now what do you feel?”

“I’m warm and wet. I can make my walls clench around me.”

“Good girl. Now suck your juices off your finger.”

I slide my finger out from between my legs, poke it through the mouth-hole in the mask, and suck. The taste brings back memories of sucking my slick from Enzo’s finger, our tongues touching as he licked at the same time. I can still see the gleam in his eyes. Still see his smile, and every part of me aches for him.

“Tell me how you taste, Nyx.” His voice is lower.

“Sweet, it makes my tongue tingle.”

“Sweet like honey,” Brian murmurs, and my heart somersaults.

It’s something Enzo used to say, and the lump in my throat swells a little more.

“I want to hear you come, Nyx.”

“You want me to scream and call out your name?” It’s too cliché, and not what I expected. I’ll be disappointed if he says yes.

“No, I’ll know if you’re faking it, and you won’t see me again. I want to hear you, Nyx. I want to hear your orgasm and know that you’re doing it for me.”

I move towards him and stop when my toes touch the circle. Then I slide two fingers inside me and soften my clit with my slick, while I pinch and tug on my nipples with my left hand.

“I can smell you,” he says. “You smell like honey too.”

I find my rhythm, sliding my fingers inside me, coating them with my juices, and working my clit. My breathing is already shallow. “Can you hear me?”

“I hear you.” He’s smiling, I know he is. “Tell me when you’re close.”

It doesn’t take long. It’s the thought of knowing how near he is, listening to me come for him because he told me to, while he still holds the secret of what he would do to me if he had the chance.

When my clit is throbbing and every part of my body is tingling and sensitive, I say, “I’m going to come, Brian.”

“No, you’re not.” His words land with a dull thud on the thick carpet at my feet. “Stop.”

I do so, panting, my heart racing.

“Tell me what you were thinking about when you touched yourself.”

I try to regulate my breathing and focus on anything but my throbbing clit. “You didn’t tell me why I should be scared of what you would do to me,” I say honestly.

“Does being scared turn you on?”

“No.” It’s a lie, and we both know it. “Yes.”

“Proceed.”

“You want me to⁠—”

“I want to hear you come, Nyx,” he snaps. “Now.”

I balk at the change in his tone. I’m paid to give him what he wants, but if he wants the real me, that’s what he’s going to get. “I can’t switch it on and off like that.”

“Yes, you can, more than you realize.” Playful Brian is back. “If you come for me, I’ll tell you what I want to do to you. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?”