Resentment and lust battle for first place as I watch her smirk at the camera. She’s always thrived with eyes on her. Some might call her an attention whore for it, but I called it owning her sexuality. The shame people throw at sex work is pathetic. The same people criticising it are the ones secretly jerking off to it in the dark, hiding the receipts when their partners ask questions.
I nearly miss it when she purrs about needing someone to make her come. My thumb hits the private session button before I can stop myself. My phone buzzes. Three grand spent on Tempt and into her pocket, just like that. As if I need another reminder that she still owns me in ways no one else ever has.
The irony? Everyone thinks I’m the villain in our story. The heartbreaker. The guy who chased what he couldn’t have while being promised to someone else. The asshole who wanted to have his cake and eat it, too. None of our friends know what really happened, or what I was ready to do for her, for us.
But none of that matters now.
Twisting my ring, I wait as the screen goes black for a breath, and then… there she is. Bathed in low, sinful light like a secret meant only for me. My cock strains against my boxers, aching with a need I have no right to feel. She doesn’t know it’s me behind the screen. If she did, she’d kill the feed without hesitation. She’d never let me see her like this. Never let me hear those filthy, desperate sounds meant for some random subscriber.
But I’ve never been good at sharing what’s mine, and for better or worse she’s still mine.
On the screen, she stretches, slow and unbothered. Like she’s got all night to taunt and tease me with a smirk on her lips and half-lidded hazel eyes. Those same eyes that once looked at me like I was her whole world. Now, I have no doubt they wouldburn straight through me if she knew it was me on the other side of the screen.
“Couldn’t stay away, huh, BegForMe ?” she teases, twirling a pink strand of hair around her finger.
She rolls onto her stomach, hips lifting toward the camera. The lens catches the curve of her ass, a minuscule scrap of lace doing nothing to hide her from my hungry eyes. The angle makes it feel intimate—dangerously so. As if she’s right there under me. As if I could reach through the screen, gather that highlighted hair into my fist, and tilt her chin back until her mouth parts on a gasp.
My jaw clenches. The room feels too small, too charged. I can almost taste her moans, the tremor of her breath when I’d press her down and make her take every inch. The thought burns through me, sharp as a bullet.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, undoing my slacks. The friction is almost unbearable, the tension coiled tight in my gut. I shouldn’t be watching her. Not like this.
I detest the control she has over me like this, but fuck it, I can’t look away.
Not from the girl who never should have been mine in the first place.
BegForMe:They didn’t deserve to see the full show.
BegForMe:Strip for me, baby.Show me what’s mine.
BegForMe:Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you come.
Her mouth parts, and a slow grin spreads even as her cheeks heat under my words.
“Now that’s not very nice,” she purrs. “I was enjoying the other boys’ attention. And Mistress always says the most delightful things. What makes you think you own me, BegForMe?”
My cock throbs, thick and aching, already straining for her like it knows what I can’t have, but doesn’t give a fuck about can’t or shouldn’t.
BegForMe:You mean other than the three thousand sitting in your bank account?
BegForMe:I don’t think. I know.
“Mhmhm, while it’s a nice perk, money doesn’t get me off. No, what I need is a hard cock tearing me apart and putting me back together. I want to feel cum dripping out of me. Smell it on my skin the next day. I want to be utterly wrecked. Possessed.Owned.”
Her breathy voice has me gripping my cock tighter. Seeing her like this was always my favourite part—when she shakes off all the noise from the outside about her body, and embraces what makes her feel that sweet euphoria only freedom can bring.
BegForMe:Fucking hell, you are one needy little fuck toy, aren’t you?
BegForMe:Get your special toy for me, show me how your cunt stretches around it.
BegForMe:Fill yourself up like a good whore.
She whimpers, reaching off-screen. When she returns, she’s holding a different dildo. One with the ability to pump her full of cum at the push of a button. Her hazel eyes meet the camera, and my pulse spikes.
Fuck, she’s so damn beautiful, it’s like a knife between my ribs every time I look at her.
She leans back, her hair spilling over her satin pillowcase. Those damn nipple piercings catch the light and the delicate red inked floral tattoos lead the way down from between her tits, tracing a path down her ribs to her hips. My mind floods with memories—her hips in my grip, her cunt stretched around me, her voice breaking as she begged for more. Christ, I hate how much I miss her.
I’m treated to a glimpse of the black lingerie clinging to her soaking centre as she lets her knees drop open. More tattoos wrap around her thighs—ink I’m desperate to taste. She dips her fingers beneath the sheer fabric, and her moan is a punch straight through my ribcage.
