Chapter 6
ROMAN
I blink again.
When that doesn’t work, I pinch my forearm and then my neck. Still, she’s there on my screen.
I’ve paused the video at the three-minute mark, but even just staring at the motionless screen is enough to have my cock dripping a steady stream of precum into my briefs. I curl my fingers into a fist on the leather armrest and let it hang there, refusing to relieve the pain in my groin.
The woman in front of me is facing her headboard with her knees spread wide and digging deep into the thick white comforter.
The camera is far enough away that although I could watch as she peeled her panties from her pussy and touched herself while she was on her back, from this new angle, it’s tucked just out of view.
Instead, her thong is buried tight between her ass cheeks and blocking the tight little hole that’s spreading wide for the dildo she’s balancing over.
My pulse sounds like a war cry in my ears as I dig my blunt nails into my palm and shoot out a rough exhale.
I want to see her face right now. I’ve been wondering what she looks like since the first time I stumbled upon her page, but it’s always been innocent curiosity.
This right here is a primal need to see the ecstasy bloom across her features as she takes the silicone cock and cries out like she’s taking the real thing.
Are her eyes squeezed shut? Does she bite her lip to trap her moans, or does she let her mouth fall open when those whimpers sound in my earbuds? What colour are her lips, and do they taste as good as I bet they do?
Slowly, I scroll my eyes over her once more.
When she asked my favourite colour, I had a feeling it was for this reason. But seeing the black set melting into her pale skin does more for me than I could have anticipated. She looks like a fucking angel touched by the devil. I’m far from that hellish bastard, but for her, I’d try.
Jesus, what am I talking about?
I unpause the video and grind my teeth when she sinks deeper onto the dildo and falls so far forward that the camera cuts her off at the dip of her waist. She keeps a hand between her legs and uses it to work the blue silicone inside.
Her thigh muscles contract as she sways back and forth, then swoops her hips down, taking the last inches in a filthy grind.
My cock is hard enough to crack stone as I adjust myself. I linger, my grip growing punishing as I ache to stroke myself. The tight confines of my dress slacks create a barrier that I’m contemplating ripping a hole into. There are a million pairs of them in my closet. What’s one pair destroyed?
“Shit—oh, God!”
My throat clinches, cutting off my air supply.
Without thinking, I unclasp my belt and yank so hard on my zipper that I hear something tear.
The open flap of my pants allows me to delve my hand into my underwear and take my cock into my hand, hissing at the blistering heat.
I spread my legs wide and knock my knees on the inside of my desk while gripping myself tight enough to feel the pulse of blood beneath the skin.
“Fuck,” I spit, smearing the cum down from the tip to lube my shaft.
Velvet cries out into her pillows when her thighs begin to spasm. I lean forward, nearly toppling onto my desk as I move my wrist, working myself to the brink alongside her. It doesn’t matter that I shouldn’t be doing this. I need to. Fuck—I need to.
My vision blurs when I see the clear liquid dripping down the silicone balls and soaking into the bedding. I stroke faster, holding myself so tightly it hurts. Every whimper drives me closer alongside her, sweat beading beneath the collar of my shirt.
The band of her panties slides further down the dip of her ass, revealing a piece of artwork that I’ve never seen in her videos before.
I’ve considered that there was something on that smooth patch of skin from the few sheer panties she’s worn prior to now.
But fuck . . . it’s right here. And I can’t look away.
It’s so vibrant that I can’t imagine her wanting to keep it hidden. Not unless she’s wanted to keep it to herself for protection. It would make sense. Because now that I’ve seen the blooming pink tulip with its heavy drip of liquid pollen, I’ll never forget it.
Each droplet cascades toward the crack of her ass, making my mind run wild.
It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone, and right now, she’s the only woman in my mind filling that empty role.
With every glide of my hand, I’m more convinced that maybe I’ve been punishing myself with not getting back out there.
It wouldn’t be hard to go out and find someone to stroke my cock for me, or to let me spread them wide on my desk with their knees pressed to their chest while I returned the favour.
My balls tense, pulling up as my mouth falls open around nothing.
I listen to this nameless woman reach her climax and scream into her pillows at the same time I’m pulsing in my hand and shooting thick wads onto my shirt.
The groan that escapes me is chained, quiet enough that I hope it doesn’t carry outside of my home office.
I don’t move for a good five minutes once the video comes to an end.
Relief hits before welcoming the shame that follows.
Yet I can’t seem to ignore the part of me that needs to let her know that I got the video and at least enjoyed it.
If I can still be considered a gentleman after what I just did, then . . . that’s what I’m striving for.
Quiethours
There was no need to be nervous. You look stunning in black, Velvet.
“Uncle? What are you doing here? Oh! Shit—I’m sorry. Is it already noon?”
What?
The music that was playing in the studio cuts off, and then Evie is in front of me.
Her face is drawn in with worry, and once again, I’m hounded with the same guilt that’s been following me around the last few months.
I give my head a shake and put the weight of my focus on her instead of the woman I know is behind her, thankfully out of view now.
“Yes. It’s past noon. I tried texting and calling first.” I clear my throat. “If I’d known you were working, I’d have just dropped this off with Petal and seen you later.”
Evie’s features relax. Her eyebrows even out as she adjusts the headband keeping her messy brown hair out of her face and says, “It’s okay. Let me finish up here, and we can eat. We’re nearly done. Maybe just . . . step away so we can finish in private?”
“Right.” I try to bury my discomfort before she can catch it.
She pats my arm before giving it a shove. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Take your time.”
“You don’t really mean that, but since you offered,” she teases, already stepping back.
The space between us allows me a straight-shot view of Brielle. I need to look away before I lose the chance, but shit. Is she checking me out?
I remain frozen in place, watching as she runs a set of confident, mossy-green eyes up my thighs, then my chest, and finally, my face.
Her stare clings to my jaw before sweeping up and over my lips and nose.
By the time our eyes connect, her right eyebrow has lifted just enough to betray what I assume to be approval.
The soft pink colour of her lips is exactly what I pictured while watching that video, and that makes this all that much worse. I wanted to know, sure. But not like this. Not with her being someone my niece knows, and sure as hell not a sister of one of my players.
That sharp sting of shame grows furious the longer I stand here staring at her, allowing those bold eyes to check me out, as if I’m not her brother’s boss.
Closing off my expression, I tame the sudden ridiculous puff of my chest and straighten. With my jaw tight, I look back at my niece, dismissing Brielle and the interest that I’d have to be blind to miss.
Evie narrows her eyes at the corners, but I’m turning away much too fast for her to get a good look.
After all these years of it just being us, she’s grown to see a bit too much when it comes to my emotions.
I blame that on my inability to keep anything from her.
How could I even contemplate keeping secrets from her after all she’s lost?
My pain could never compare to hers, even if I loved my sister deep enough that even now, I swear I can feel her guiding me through the toughest moments in my life.
“I’m so sorry about that, Brielle. I feel like you should give me a bad Google review or something,” she babbles to her client the moment I get moving.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not overly shy.”
My fingers twitch at the honeyed sound of her voice because Christ, it’s like she’s making it sound like that on purpose. It shouldn’t affect me. My cock shouldn’t be growing stiff, and I shouldn’t be tempted to take just one more look back at her.
Evie’s laugh carries through the studio, enticing me further to glance over my shoulder. One last time wouldn’t kill me . . .
My feet keep moving when I give in. I twist my neck and curse, seeing Brielle holding her bright red hair up off her bare shoulders with two dainty hands while arching her back, pushing her chest out.
The soft lines of her thin body are exactly how I remember, yet so different in person.
For the very first time, I can see the elegant pull of her throat as she leans her head to the side and smiles coyly at the camera.
Can feel how consuming her presence is. So powerful you can’t help but get trapped beneath the ease of her confidence and the sexual prowess she holds because of it.
It’s maddening.
And suddenly, I’m furious with her for being who she is.
In the span of ten minutes, my perfectly constructed reality has warped. It’s now chipped, and I need to scuff it out before it has the chance to spiderweb.