Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
Hollis
“Good girl,” Feliks drawls, the barest hint of his Russian accent sneaking out. I’ve noticed it only appears when he’s super focused on something. Right now, that something is me.
“Now, it’s obvious my cleaning girl needs a lesson on being thorough, doesn’t she?” he asks.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Throbwell,” I purr, falling into the roleplay as though it’s been intentionally planned rather than completely on the fly.
I’ve never cammed with another person, so I know my audience of regular viewers has to be losing their minds right now. Judging by the nonstop clink of tokens into my digital wallet, they’re definitely eating this up.
“Then kneel, and we’ll begin your on-the-job training. If I’m satisfied with your improvement, you’ll find out how generously I incentivize good work.”
Feliks has given nothing but golden retriever energy since we met, despite the fuckboy vibes I detected initially.
I assumed he’d be a decent, if somewhat generic, lay if for no other reason than from sheer experience, not that he’d been so crass as to give me any details.
But this Feliks? All dominant and controlling and feeding directly into my cam session as if he planned it? Yeah, definitely didn’t see it coming.
Obediently, I lift myself from his lap, doing nothing to right my dress or cover myself.
Partly thanks to the voice at the back of my head reminding me I’m on camera, and partly because Feliks didn’t tell me to.
Deep inside me, a need to impress him with my ability to be submissive takes root and begins to bloom.
“Strip,” he commands. The single word is sharp and direct.
One eyebrow lifts in expectation. Of what, I’m uncertain.
I asked if he was sure earlier, and he didn’t back down.
Now, we’re in this through the end. Whatever that end may be.
For once, I’m allowing another person to run the show in more ways than one.
I wrestle out of the tight costume, wriggling in ways I know play well to an audience.
Both the one online, and the man in front of me.
“Kneel,” he says. A pillow lands on the floor, and he rises in time to offer a hand to help me sink gracefully to my knees. He’s angled us so the camera’s lens is directly focused on his torso, and it will pick up what happens next.
“Sir?” I simper. “I don’t see any mess here.”
“That’s exactly the problem, missy. You’re only cleaning the surface. Not paying attention to what’s behind things. Leaving messes you should have tended to. Unzip my pants. Take me out.”
I drop my chin to face the straining erection trapped down the right leg of his pants. A quick glance to the laptop screen shows the viewer count skyrocketing, but aside from a slow lick of my lower lip, I don’t acknowledge the audience.
My hands tremble a bit from the excitement rushing through me as I lift them to work the button and zipper of his slacks.
He’s long enough I have to tug them down to his knees before I can reach into the waistband of his tight boxer briefs and pull them beneath his erection.
I wiggle the fabric lower until his balls are freed as well, tucking the elastic behind them, so his impressive package is perched on display.
“Oh, you’re right, sir. There is a mess!” I exclaim. A smear of precum shines in the lighting that turns the room into a stage.
“Exactly. Now, you see why I’m so disappointed in your hasty cleaning? I expect a thorough polishing. Hands behind your back. Efficiency over ease,” he proclaims.
I clasp my fingers in the small of my back, a pose which pushes my breasts forward. Feliks cups my chin with the palm opposite where the camera is, his thumb pulling my jaw down.
“Tongue out,” he orders.
I comply as he uses his other hand to press his cockhead against the tip of my tongue, sliding around and wetting himself. I hear the sound of him spitting an instant before a wet plop of saliva lands on his thick shaft. He slicks his fingers over himself creating lubricant for what comes next.
“Now, take me,” he commands before feeding himself steadily deeper and deeper into my mouth.
I feel his spongy head press against the back of my throat, my lips stretched wide to accommodate his thickness, and I swallow instinctively.
Feliks groans raggedly, pulling himself free of my mouth and allowing me a moment to catch my breath before he plunges in again.
Each time he reaches the back of my throat, I swallow, keeping my gag reflex in check and taking him so deep his trimmed pubes tickle my nose.
“I’m going to make a mess for real now, missy.
And you’re going to swallow every drop of it, so it doesn’t spill on this expensive rug.
You understand me? Every. Single. Drop.” He punctuates each word with a pump of his hips, and I feel the wide vein on the underside of his dick throb seconds before his hot, salty cum floods my mouth.
I swallow noisily, tipping my head back to capture the final pulses of his orgasm.
He eases me off his cock slowly, allowing me to lick and nip at it until the only shine left on his skin is from my mouth. Feliks helps me to my feet with his hands under my elbows, and I drag in greedy gulps of air while he supports most of my weight.
“Good job. Now, you’ve earned your pay. Lie down on the bed on your back. Heels to your ass, knees wide for me.” He directs me into the position he wants, one I’m certain allows the camera to capture a perfect side view of me splayed out for his pleasure.
Wordlessly, he pulls up his slacks and zips them, leaving the button undone, before sauntering to the laptop and shutting the screen. He tilts the camera at the ceiling before unplugging it, ending the stream and the audience’s view.
“We need to have some discussions about all this.” He gestures behind him at my setup while prowling towards the bed.
“But first, I think I deserve a reward for being such a willing costar. Don’t you, Champ?
” His nickname for me, spoken tenderly, confirms he’s not upset about what he caught me doing.
“You’re not mad?” I ask anyway.
“Mad that you thought running a cam session from our guestroom while I was busy doing, as you call it, ‘Bratva shit?’” He mimics my flippant reference to his job.
I nod.
“No. That was hot as fuck. I am happy to continue showing the world in vivid color and surround sound how willingly you submit to me,” he says.
I’d laugh at his arrogance, but splayed out like this, I’m hardly in a position to sass him. Besides, the entirety of that scene has me so primed it will only take the slightest effort on his part to get me off. And I’m seriously hoping he’s on board with that plan.
“Okay. If you say so, Mr. Rykov. You’re the boss,” I tease.
“That’s husband to you, Mrs. Rykov.” It’s not a proposal.
Not a question. He climbs onto the bed and settles between my legs, my entire pussy displayed just in front of his face.
Hot puffs of breath tease my parted lower lips and dance over my sensitive clit.
It’s been so long since anyone but me has touched there, and I’m already on a ledge of climax.
When he covers my whole pussy with his mouth, tongue moving unerringly to press and wiggle against my clit, I’m lost. In moments he’s flinging me off the ledge of climax into the abyss.
He peppers kisses to my lower body as I come down from my orgasm, each one interrupted by demands that I agree to marry him.
To become his. To raise Dru with him and give him more babies. I submit to every single one of them.
We’ve seen the worst of each other. I’ve watched him kill. I know he’s a criminal. He knows I’m a former prostitute and current cam girl, who does whatever it takes to survive and provide for her daughter. None of those things stand in our way. Mrs. Rykov, indeed.