Heat swelled in my belly.
This. I needed this. Him and me, doing something together that I understood. All I knew for certain was that this path was the only one I could follow right now.
“Direct me,” he said low.
Yes.
I slid my own mask on and shook out my hair. Under my clothes, I had good underwear for once. Perfect for a performance.
Taking his hand, I led him to the bed and had him sit. The camera would track us. Zoom in and focus on whatever the viewers wanted.
“Lose the shirt.”
Tyler’s eyes darkened behind the mask, but he didn’t hesitate. Or rush either. He took his time, pulling the fabric up and over, and tossing it aside with only the briefest breaking of eye contact.
That warmth coiled tighter inside me.
I let my gaze travel over him again. Slower so I could appreciate his solid form. The inkwork I’d memorised.
“Good.” I traced down his arm, just a light touch to mask how badly I wanted to grab him. “You don’t move unless I tell you to.”
We shared a breath.
“Understood?”
His voice came low with that rough, controlled quality I loved. “Perfectly.”
I smiled again, satisfied.
Then I leaned in so my lips brushed the edge of his. “Let’s see how long you can manage that.”
I kissed his throat, then lower to his chest. At his waist, I undid his black jeans. Tyler straightened from his lean on the bed to allow me to strip them. If this had been planned, I’d have cues so viewers could tell me what they wanted. Or I’d carry out a routine I’d advertised, following steps and narrating them. But as far as I cared, it was just the two of us. The rest of it only a framework to keep me in check.
It was working.
I sank to my heels and tugged the jeans from his feet. Socks next. Then I rose and pushed him to lie back. “Drape over the bed. Don’t you dare peek at me.”
He sprawled out in just his boxer shorts, the material tented already from the promise of what was to come. I tapped my chinthen stretched up an arm. The other followed it, and I slipped my hoodie over my head, taking the slinky camisole I’d worn with it.
Coyly, I held them in front of my chest. “How does it feel to know I’m stripping and you can’t see?”
His dick bobbed.
I shimmered inside. “Someone’s eager to meet me.”
It did again, and Tyler made a frustrated sound.
“Impatient man. Close your eyes.”
He did, and I circled the bed to check, dropping my clothes as I went so I was in my bra and shiny leggings, heels clicking. Beside his head, I leaned over him, brushing his face with my breasts. Tyler groaned.
I kissed his sternum then pushed my fingers under the waistband of his shorts. “I need to see what I’m dealing with, boo. This all for me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Good boy.” I shoved down his shorts and exposed his hard length.
My mouth watered.
