Chapter 9
Jade
The flustered satyr sits across from me.
Sweat was dripping from his bouncy curls.
Curls I’m dying to sink my fingers into.
Stop that, Jade, he’s a client. Just a client.
I take a deep breath, then stand, tossing my long black hair behind me.
Each click of my heels echoes like a ticking clock, counting down as I move toward him, and Fylis nearly leaps out of his seat with every sound.
Burgess, let me know Fylis had some complexities.
No problem for me, of course. I’m one of the best. Then why does your heart clench when he looks at you like that?
I shake the thought from my head. It’s been one session and he’s wormed his way into my mind.
I’m here to work, not to drown in feelings like a fragile girl needing something she can’t have.
Stopping in front of Fylis, I tap his knees for him to spread them. It takes a moment, but when he does, I praise him.
“Look at you, learning already. Such a smart boy.”
His throat tightened visibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but his breath never faltered. He’s present and in a mostly calm state, so I continue. I position myself between his furry legs, allowing my skin to brush against him. Small gradients.
“Color?” I search his eyes for the truth as he schools his features to please me. Gods, he’s precious.
“Green,” a choked whisper comes from his lips.
Slowly, I bring my hand to his horns, letting a fingertip gently caress the end of it. When he moans but doesn’t stop me, I continue.
“You’re doing so well, Fylis. Do you like it when I touch you here? Tell me where you enjoy being touched.”
He leans into my hand seeking more pressure, so I wrap my hand entirely around his horn, giving it languid strokes.
“I-I don’t know. I haven’t let anyone touch me, like this, in a very long time.”
It’s odd for a satyr not to indulge in his instincts.
This guy is wound up tighter than I thought.
Letting go of his horn abruptly, he huffs in frustration, his eyes seeking mine for a reason.
I stretch my hand out before him and he eyes it wearily before placing his palm in mine.
With a gentle tug, I pull him up from the chair.
His horns barely reach my chin, and with these heels, I definitely tower over him.
I guide him to follow behind me over to the bed again.
Without any instruction, he sits at the edge, appearing more eager.
My heart thumps at the thought. Down girl.
Opening a hidden drawer on the frame, I pull out a green silky eye mask.
The color looks magical against his deep brown fur and caramel skin.
“Are you comfortable putting this on? Removing one sense can enhance the others. You can-”
“I trust you.” He eagerly takes the mask from me, carefully placing it over his eyes. “Would you like me sitting or lying down, Mistress?”
A smirk tugs at my lips, and a throbbing starts in my core. “You’re perfect where you are, Fylis. Just perfect.” His pointed ears flicker in delight.
“I’m going to touch you now with my hands and with some soft items. I want you to focus on the feeling, being present. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
I grab a feather off the wall and a ribbon wand, too. His thighs are open, granting me access to stand in his space, and I notice the most luscious pink tip poking out of his fur. It’s bulbous and thick, already shimmering with precum. Filing that image away for the spank bank later.
My fingers graze his shirt buttons, carefully undoing them one by one, taking my time. Once his shirt is gaping open, I drag the feather down his neck and chest, making delicate circles all over his skin.
“Green.” He gasps softly, egging me on.
Swapping the feather out for a ribbon, letting it lazily drag over his skin, occasionally the back of my knuckles joining.
He shimmies on the bed, attempting to adjust himself, pulling my attention to his now fully erect and delicious cock.
The thickness alone makes my mouth water at the sight.
Veins decorate it like thick cords, reminding me of his bondage interest. Another session.
I force myself to hold back and not get carried away.
But the nagging need to try it all with this man is eating at me.
“Mistress,” he pleads, “I need… I-”
Breaking my protocol, I drop the ribbon and wrap my hand around his length, fingers never meeting.
A gentle, husky sound slips between us, leaving us both guessing who made it.
I give him a little squeeze, dragging my hand up, then back down.
His skin moving like ripples in an ocean with my motions.
Fylis’s face turns rosy as he moves into my grasp, letting out soft whimpers.
Fuck, what was I supposed to be doing? Edging, that’s right.
I stroke him a few more times, then stop, keeping him in my hand. A sigh pours from his lips in exacerbation.
“Please, Mistress,” panting between shallow breaths, “I want-need to come. Green. Please.”
“You beg so nicely, Fylis. You’ve been such a good boy in these final moments of our session, but unfortunately, that’s all the time we have.
” With a final stroke, I let go, his cock slapping obscenely against his stomach.
I remove his eye mask to see his eyes glistening before he looks away, turning his head over so slightly.
Was he about to cry? I mean, I love a good edging, but perhaps I did get a little carried away with my new delicate client.
“Color.” Standing between his thighs once again, I pull his face up to meet mine. “Fylis, color, please.”
“Green.” He swallows hard and begins buttoning his shirt. I step out of his space and collect myself. Why can’t I stay in character tonight? When he stands, my body feels like a magnet calling to him. He reaches the last button, and I dash forward to button it for him.
“Let me.” His hands fall to his sides as I finish. “You did so well today, Fylis. I’m looking forward to our next session.” Our eyes meet, and my world nearly shatters. Those warm chestnut eyes filled with so much emotion drag me under like a wave. Gods, he’s beautiful.
“I’m looking forward to it, Mistress. Shall I see myself out?” I’m so distracted by his beauty, I nearly forget about aftercare.
“You still look a little stiff, come sit on the couch and let me take care of you first.” I don’t miss that tail twitch, eagerly thinking I’m going to let him cum again.
We take a seat on the couch, and I turn him to the side so I can reach his shoulders.
I run my hands over them, squeezing and rubbing his knotted muscles.
Sighs pour from his lips as I work a particularly stubborn knot out.
“Wow, I needed that. This is so nice.”
“Nicer than me touching your cock?” He laughs, and it sounds like a melody.
“No, definitely not.” His hand covers mine. “Thank you, Mistress. This was very enlightening.”
A smile tugs at my lips as we stand and walk towards the door together, a comfortable distance apart. While pulling on his blazer, he kept his eyes glued to mine. We chipped away at the walls today, and he already seems lighter.
“Anything I should work on until our next session, Mistress?” Ever the overachiever, this one.
“Edging. I want you to bring yourself to the edge every time you touch yourself, but never fall over. Try that a few times before you submit to the pleasure. Can you do that for me, Fylis? If you do, I will reward you at our next session.” I slip him a card with my personal cell number on it. Another breach of protocol.
A boyish grin paints his features, “Shall I update you every time, Mistress?” So eager to please, I’m thankful for the breakthrough.
“I expect it.” I meet his grin with my own as he slips out the door into the busy lounge.
Closing the door, I fall against it, sliding to the floor.
My hands weave through my hair as I growl in frustration.
My eyes land on my private drawer of the nightstand.
I need to address this tension, then get myself back in check. I cannot feel this way about him.