“Tell me.” I could feel his lips form the words over my skin.
I sagged against him, secretly relishing in how goddamn soft his hand and lips were. Whatever lotion he used must be worth hundreds of dollars. I had never felt skin so smooth.
“Behind me,” I rasped, barely biting back a groan as I felt the barest scrape of teeth on my neck. “I want to be naked, leaning against you while you jack me from behind.”
Price’s tongue traced a long line straight from my collarbone to my ear. He whispered just beneath it, sending a chill down my spine. “Can I help you take your clothes off, Pretty Boy?”
Nobody had ever asked me before. I had only ever been demanded, never given any sort of choice. For the first time in my life, I gave an honest answer. “Yes.”
His hands were gentle as they slowly—ever so fucking slowly—pulled my shirt over my head. When the fabric hit my neck, I could hear Price’s gasp. It sounded similar to how Willow reacted when my bruises were fresh. It repeated in my head, throwing me into a moment of half-hearted regret. Not for myself or my actions, but for existing in the space of someone who cared. I couldn’t help but wonder if Price actually cared, or if he was doing this purely out of kindhearted instinct.
Probably the latter. He didn’t even know my name, but oh, did his hands feel heavenly. I shivered under every touch, closing my eyes as he assessed every inch of my skin with his hands. It was as if he was committing each bump and imperfection to memory, locking it away in his mind for the future.
A future that didn’t exist. Not for me, not for him, and not for us. The thought twisted in my gut as he found one of the belt loops on myjeans. He hooked a finger into one on each side of my hips and pulled, bringing us close enough to touch. His stare was captivating and horrifying. My pants were shoved down, leaving me with my loose briefs. I hadn’t felt anxiety about being bare in front of someone since my first sexual encounter.
That had been so long ago, yet I remembered every detail. Every thought that had gone through my head. I remembered the tightness in my chest and the overwhelming feeling of it beingwrong.
Price felt so fucking wrong. My body felt wrong. The air I was breathing in this fancy fucking hotel felt wrong. I knew that, and for some reason, I didn’t stop him.
“Could you sit on the bed, please?” he asked.
Not a hint of demand in his tone. I thought about refusing, just to see what he’d do. Price hadn’t looked down yet, focusing only on my face, eyes, and torso. I would’ve known if he had. I would’ve heard it in his voice.
The same confused, shocked hitch of breath that most of my clients would let out when they saw me. Desire won over hesitance, and I sat on the edge of the bed.
A second gasp, much like the one before. Price’s head was tilted down, observing my skin. I watched his pupils trace the road maps of pain along my thighs and legs. The echoes of my past littered my body, emotions I didn’t have the guts to voice openly displayed in ugly, angry scars I didn’t have the effort to regret.
Amber flames met my gaze. I was afraid, if only for a brief moment, that he would run away. Seeing my body might have been too much. When Price looked at me, it didn’t feel like he was simply looking. It was as if he was absorbing my icy soul, forcing smoke to billow around us as the glaciers inside of me screamed for his warmth. I was afraid he’d leave. I was afraid he wouldn’t. I was terrified of what he would find if he looked too closely.
Price took a few steps forward, seemingly still determined. “Move into the middle, please.”
I scooted backwards less than gracefully. I met the middle of the mattress and laid my palms on either side of me, pushing my hands into the material.
He stood fully clothed, bringing an air of vulnerability I wasn’t sureI was ready for. Price climbed onto the side of the bed and crawled behind me.
Strong arms wrapped around my chest and pulled me backwards until my back touched his chest. His legs spread around me, one leg on each side. Price was warm, and I was right about his scent. Woodsy trees, smelling like home. Rainwater falling onto fallen leaves. I breathed it in, savoring the smell of home after being away from it for so long.
Lips pressed against the shell of my ear, his breath hot and vaguely minty against my skin. “Your body is exquisite, Pretty Boy,” he whispered.
I had no words to give him. My thoughts and fears blurred together so fiercely that, eventually, nothing else existed. As his manicured and strong palms explored my body, his tongue tasted the beads of sweat on the back of my neck. I could feel his chest rumble with a satisfied groan as he trailed his palm down the imperfect plane of my stomach.
Price’s fingertips paused just above the waistband of my briefs. “I’m going to pull these down just enough to touch you. I want to hear every noise and feel you writhe in my arms. Don’t hold back.” His other hand took my nipple between his fingers, rolling it between them. “You believe you have to deserve my money, right?”
My head rolled back, resting against his shoulder. I could feel my underwear slide down, resting just beneath my balls. I panted through stilted breaths, my lungs somehow forgetting how to function. Goosebumps lined my arms, every hair standing on end. My cock twitched when the cool hotel air kissed the tip. “I do. I refuse—fuck—” His hand wrapped around my shaft, the warmth of his palm enveloping me. “I refuse to take your money if I don’t work for it.”
I wasn’t used to this. I knew calloused, cracked skin and rough, bruising grips, but Price wasn’t being rough. His palm was smooth, and his hold was gentle.
He stroked up, pulling a groan from my lips. “Then work for it, Pretty Boy. Show me how much you need this. Tell me how good it feels.”
Patience was never my strong point, and Price seemed to have gathered that immediately. Each time I tried to shift my hips, arch my back, or gyrate in time with his strokes, he would only go slower. His gripwould loosen. My muscles would scream, begging for something more. Faster. Harder.
One finger circled my nipples, the other thumbed my slit with every upstroke, his mouth nipped and licked and caressed, and soon, I was fucking losing it. I was out of my element, and I couldn’t figure out if I hated it or loved it.
The muscles in my stomach clenched as I got closer and closer. I could hear my moans get quieter as everything started to build up. I was so close, so fucking close when Price pulled his hand away and cupped my balls.
“Lose the tension. Stop chasing the pleasure. Receive it instead, enjoy it, and get lost in it.” He rolled my balls between his fingers ever so slowly. “You’ll come, I promise. You feel so fucking hot against me, whimpering and whining your way through this. You’re doing so good, Pretty Boy.”
I whined, rolling my head from side to side on his shoulder. “Why can’t you go faster? Take me out of my misery and just dominate me, Price. Please.”
