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Double what he paid for you to strip. For you to do the same thing you’re going to do alone tonight in your bed–thinking of him, no less–you just have to do it with him watching. Is that really so bad?
That flush of heat spreads through me again, an ache growing between my thighs that makes mewantto do it, just so I can relieve the need that’s rapidly building. My clit feels swollen, pulsing with the need to be touched, and I nod, my voice coming out more breathless than I mean for it to as I agree.
“Double,” I manage, my hands slowly sliding up my thighs to tease him further. “And I’ll masturbate for you.”
His eyes gleam. “As long as you orgasm, Athena. I want to see you come–and I’ll know if you fake it.”
Something about his words sends a frisson of lust over my skin, prickling it from my head to my toes. I can feel how wet I am, drenched with arousal from the sound of him demanding my orgasm.
I think of the way his voice made me feel earlier tonight, out on the street. Of how he was inexplicably in my neighborhood, right behind me, how he justhappenedto be there.
I think of that feeling of being watched again, of eyes on me.
What if this is all him?
Or what if you’re just being paranoid, and you lose out on a chance to strike gold?
I’ve heard all the girls talk about these types of men, the ones they call “whales,” with the kind of reverence normally reserved for a religious experience. Men who throw unbelievable amounts of money at them, men who pay for their rent and clothes and anything else they want, for the period of time that they stay obsessed. They never last forever, but while they do, they can change a girl’s life.
If that’s all Mikhail is, if I’m just being paranoid, then he could changemylife.
I’ve never felt more confused.
What’s even more confusing is how the fear feels to me. I’m afraid he might be the one stalking me, that I might be walking into a trap, and yet it doesn’t make melessaroused. The danger just seems to heighten everything, making my heart race and my palms tingle, making me want to dance that line of seeing how far I can take this. What will happen next?
I feel alive, on a razor’s edge of desire and danger, and I know if I fall off, it could be deadly.
“Well?” His eyebrow raises, and I know I’m not going to tell him no.
“Agreed,” I whisper. The music is still playing, slow now and hypnotic, and I feel it pulse through me as I slide my hand up my inner thigh, teasing. My other hand goes to my breast, playing with my stiffening nipple as my fingers move upwards towards my pussy, feeling the stickiness of my arousal on my skin.
“That’s it,” Mikhail breathes, as I spread open my smooth pussy lips with two fingers, revealing my swollen clit. “God, you look fucking delicious. So fucking beautiful–”
He trails off with a groan as I flick my finger over my clit, and I suck in a breath between my teeth as the pleasure jolts through me.
I’ve masturbated countless times. I know how to make myself feel good, what touches and pressures feel the best, and exactly how to find the right rhythm. But the moment I rub my fingertip over my clit with Mikhail’s eyes on me, I know I should never have agreed to this.
Touching myself like this, with him watching me, is better than anything I’ve ever felt alone.
This was a mistake.
I’m never going to be able to forget how this feels. I can’t pretend like this never happened.
Mikhail
I’m harder than I’ve ever been in my entire fucking life, even harder than I was watching her through the bedroom window.
It’s all I can do to keep my hand off of my cock. I watch, entranced, as she spreads open her pussy for me to see, teasing her nipple with her other hand. She’s soaking wet, her clit hard and swollen, and I want to reach out and grab her by the thighs, pull her astride my face, so I can devour her.
I hear her sharp indrawn breath as she starts to rub, her body still swaying gently to the music. I have half a mind to ask her to turn it off–I want to hear the wet sounds of her fingers on her pussy–but I don’t want to ruin the moment. She’s devastatingly beautiful like this, her pale skin flushed with heat, her two fingers rubbing over her clit, her thighs trembling gently as the pleasure sweeps through her.
She moans, soft and breathless, and my cock throbs.Fuck.My balls are drawn up tight against my body, swollen and painful, and I need to come. I can feel the deep, threatening tingle at the base of my cock that warns me how close I am, that I might losecontrol and come just at the sight of the goddess in front of me pleasuring herself.
She’d chosen her stage name wisely, because sheisa goddess. I’ve never seen any woman more beautiful. Her hair falls down her back in a waterfall of black as her head tips backward, her back arching as she rotates her hips, grinding onto her hand. “Ohh–”
Her moan nearly pushes me over the edge, without having so much as brushed a finger against myself. My pants feel too tight, the friction of the fabric as my cock twitches and lurches almost enough to make me come. I know I’m torturing myself, but it’s the sweetest fucking torture I’ve ever experienced.
Every inch of her is perfection. Her body was made to be touched, pleasured,owned.I want her to be mine, I think with a ferocity that I’ve never felt, as she sways towards me, her fingers still moving against her clit.I want to make her scream with pleasure before I make her cry in pain. I want to torment her in every way possible. I want her body to belong to me and only me, for my pleasure and my vengeance.
