Not to him.
Not to the man who got every unfiltered, raw and honest part of me. The one who saw me, used me, and left me bleeding in the echoes of broken promises and shattered dreams.
Matthew O’Malley.
My stepbrother. My first love and my first heartbreak. The man who was never really mine, but always felt like he was. The man who did nothing, when I needed him to dosomething,and yet still thinks he has the right to watch my streams.
This hot-and-cold game we’ve been playing for four years is getting real fucking old. But something keeps me trapped in the loop, something I tell myself is revenge, even as a small, broken part of me fears it’s just me clinging to the only love I’ve ever felt.
Revenge or love, it doesn’t matter. Either way, I keep showing up because I know when night falls, he’ll always come crawling back to watch these forbidden moments.
A private session request flashes across the screen like clockwork.
BegForMe.
Right on time.
Batting my lashes at the lens, I make a show of disappointment for the other viewers. “Looks like I’m being stolen away.” I pout. “But I’ll be back. Same time tomorrow, my loves.”
With a wink and a kiss, I click into the private room and adjust the camera, tilting it down slightly. Just enough to make it feel like he’s hovering above me, the way he used to when he had my body in his sheets and my heart in his hands.
Catching a glimpse of myself, my tits bared, underwear clinging to my damp core and skin flushed, I breathe out, slow and even, as the screen loads. I refuse to appear anything short of cool, calm, and collected in front of him.
He might be the only person who’s ever seen the real me, and once upon a time, he was the person I shared every secret and dream with. But after everything… he’s lost any right he ever had to claim he knows me.
He might know what I sound like when I fall apart—how I taste, how I clench down like a vice on his cock. He knows about my camming, my dreams of having my own fashion line, my need to escape Mafia expectations. But knowing pieces of my life doesn’t mean he knowsme.
He’s lost all rights to the soft, vulnerable parts of me.
And yet he has the audacity to slip into my streams under the cover of a username, like I wouldn’t know it’s him. Like he has any right to see me naked and exposed when he couldn’t speak up the one time I needed him to.
What kind of fool does he take me for?
Tonight—like every night we play this sick little song and dance—I’ll remind him exactly what he lost. And I’ll take pleasure in knowing that somewhere in London, the man who broke me is left with a hard cock, my name on his lips, and not a shred of redemption.
From:[email protected]
Subject:Re: Inventory
Any update on when the next batch will be ready? Kyle’s getting impatient after the last fuck up.
From:[email protected]
Subject:Re: Inventory
I told you, I need to play this safe. Thanks to Angus’ impatience, everyone’s on edge right now. Ciaran says Jonathan is convinced there has to be more behind it.
From:[email protected]
Subject:Re: Inventory
Jonathan’s suspicions won’t matter as long as we keep things clean on our end. Boss confirmed they’re ready to handle placement once we give them the green light. Buyers are already circling. We can’t afford another delay.
