“I need to keep my identity hidden.”
“But why?” I let out a small giggle. “I thought you were a soldier? Are you absent without leave? A deserter?” It’s just my luck. I seem to attract felons.
“No.”
My shoulders drop, but I’m not sure if it’s relief or disappointment. “Are you a spy?”
“You could say that.”
“Interesting.” My skin breaks out in goose bumps, my back straightening. “Who do you spy on?”
“You.”
My mouth parts as tingles race the length of my spine, travelling straight to my centre. “W…what? When?”
He chuckles. “I’m kidding.” He leans closer to the screen. “Unless you want me to spy on you.”
I should say no. Should change this entire conversation. But the thought of him watching me has my pulse quickening. My chest rises and falls rapidly.
“I think you like the idea of being watched, don’t you, nightingale?”
“No.” The word leaves my lips like a breathy whisper.
“Don’t lie to me.” He groans. “Your body’s telling me different.” His finger points at me through the screen. “You’re not wearing a bra and your nipples are hard as bullets under that satin shirt.”
I glance down at my large breasts. He’s right.
“You’re turned on right now, aren’t you?”
There’s no denying it. I was turned on as soon as I heard his voice. “Yes, sir.” When I say those words, my walls clench.
“Do you want me to watch you come?”
“You said you wanted me to keep my clothes on.” Slickness gathers in my shorts. If I were to spread my legs, he’d see the mess I’m making as I shuffle my bottom, trying to catch the seam of my shorts against my clit.
“Fuck what I said. I want to see you. All of you.”
“What about you?” I bite my lip, desperate to see him as well.
“I told you I need to keep my identity hidden.”
“Well, is your cock on the most wanted list as well?” I hold my breath. He might be the one paying me, but if I’m going to do this and get myself off for real, I need to know he’s enjoying it. I need to see it.
“You want to see my dick?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir. Please, sir.”
He angles the camera to his waist, leans back in his chair and pulls the joggers down.
I gasp as his thick, hard, veiny cock springs free, pointing in my direction.
He grips the base of his shaft in his large gloved hand. “Your turn, nightingale.”
I unbutton my shirt, teasingly slow as I rock my hips, seeking the seam of my shorts. Once I reach the last button, my shirt falls open, exposing my breasts and my rosy nipples.
