Page 23

She rings it up, then tilts her head. "You got lube at home, hon?"

I do not, it turns out, have lube, and my face must give that away, because she's already reaching under the counter. She sets a little bottle by the register. Twenty dollars. For lube. I open my mouth to ask if she's kidding, and she heads me off, warm as ever. "It's vegan, gluten-free, and organic."

Well, then.

I buy the lube. Of course I buy the lube. I have officially become a woman who does what she's told, and I'm not even on camera yet.

I speed-walk back to the office with a little black bag tucked inside my ratty tote, slide behind the front desk, and route calls for four more hours like I don't have a boss-mandated sex toy in my bag and a boss-mandated appointment at midnight.

At 11:58 p.m., I'm on my knees in my new red lipstick and nothing else, not even my little black slip, moisturized to within an inch of my life, so my skin looks all glowy and shit. My new, matte-black secret sits on the comforter beside me, and I have no idea what to expect.

"Evening, boys," I say when they appear at my CamALot Round Table. It comes out less like a queen and more like a squeaky serf.

Get it together, Aggie. Shit, I mean Diablo.

"There she is," Beck croons, hot, intimidating, and completely in charge. "You did your homework, I see."

"I did my homework," I chirp, trying not to choke.

"Good girl." And God help me, something zings through my whole body at those two words, words that are empowering and humiliating at the same damn time.

"So here's how tonight goes, honey. You don't touch that thing until we say. You don't touch yourself until we say. Tonight, you find out what it's like for the boss to be on the other side of your webcam." A pause. "Tell me you understand," he says, in that boardroom voice that’s never questioned.

I should laugh. I should flip it, put them back on their knees, remind them whose room this is. Be the smart-ass that is Diablo.

But I don't. I don’t want to.

"I understand, HouseMoney," I gulp.

Then it starts.

Beck runs the show the way he runs everything. "Pick it up," he says about the toy, and I do, my whole body holding its breath. "Don't do anything with it yet. Just let us look at you holding it." He narrates in that easy, obscene voice, and then, because it's Beck, he tells me what he's doing too.

"For the record, Your Highness, I've had my hand on my cock since you said good evening. I'm not going to insult you by pretending I'm being patient. I'm stroking it and watching you hold that thing and thinking about exactly where it's going." Another pause. "Now. Drag it up your thigh for me. Slow. Let me watch you want it."

I drag it up my thigh. I want it. This is a problem.

Theo, who doesn't give orders, joins in. He asks, politely, of course, "Tip your head back for me. I want to see your throat. Yes. There. Now brush the dildo over your throat for us." Then, quieter, his warm voice rough at the edges. "I've got a hand around myself too, if you want to know. I have since you knelt down. I'm not going fast, not yet. I want this to last." A rough breath. "God, look at you. My cock aches, looking at you."

Niceties aside, Theo is a man who knows exactly what he wants and is used to getting it, and dammit, I'd do just about anything he asked me to right now.

"KindRegards is showing off," Beck cuts in, his own voice rougher. "I'm going slow too, sweetheart. I want to be clear that it’s fucking killing me. I just want to pump my cock until I come all over the place. But I can wait. So baby, drag the dildo over your lips. There. Christ. Now lick it like you're licking me."

And then, as I taste the toy with long strokes of my tongue, when I can barely keep hold of it in my shaking hand, the normally silent Elias/NoComment speaks up.

"Now," he says, precise. "Let's see you get it wet. Use some of that lube next to you. There you go. And since the other two are so eager to announce it, yeah, I've got my hand on my dick too. But I'm going to hold out as long as I can, because I want to watch you lose your mind first."

I do exactly what he says, because that's who Diablo is tonight. I slick the toy up, and a small sound escapes me as I bring it back down and drag it through my folds, back and forth over my clit. It's already a thousand times better than good with three men watching, working themselves in time with me, telling me just what I’m doing to them.

"Push it in." That's Beck, low and certain. "Slow. All the way. I want to watch you take it in that pussy."

So I press the head of the dildo against my opening and push, and it stretches me open in one long, slow slide.

"Christ," Beck breathes. "Look at that. Look at you swallowing that thing. Now fuck yourself with it, sweetheart. Nice and slow. Let us watch."

So I do. I fuck myself with the toy my boss made me buy, on my knees in front of a camera, watching my own body take it on the little preview window on my laptop screen.

It’s intoxicating, being watched like this.