6. Demi
DEMI
He came.
I’m wearing a sheer black robe that floats around my body as I move. Nothing underneath. And I’m already wet. I never believed a stranger could have this effect on me, but it seems fear of the unknown can be erotic in a controlled environment.
“Hello, Nyx.” Same distorted voice, but it’s enough to make my pulse race.
I’m not afraid of Brian. I’m afraid of how badly I want him to follow through on his parting promise of last night.
“Did you think about me?” he asks.
“I think you already know the answer.” I move closer, my feet following the braille track in the carpet leading me towards him and keeping me at a safe distance.
Safe.
I know Brian can’t touch me, I know our conversation is being monitored, but I feel like I’m being hunted, and the adrenaline is already pumping through my veins. I don’t want safe. I don’t think I ever did.
“Did you touch yourself when you thought about me?”
I replay in my head making myself come in the shower with my fingers, and my pussy starts to throb with want.
“Yes.” I step closer, my feet silent on the plush carpet.
“Did you make yourself come for me, Nyx?”
“Yes.”
I feel my slick trickling out from between my legs, and a shiver travels down my spine. He is doing exactly what he came here to do: he’s living out his fantasy by making me fear him and want him at the same time.
“Take off your clothes.”
My pulse takes off. I want to do this for him, I want to feel powerless when I’m with Brian, to hand over control because it’s the one aspect of my life where I don’t have to be Demi Payne, the woman who knows what she wants. And I already know that I’m not going to fight it.
But still, this is a game that requires two players.
“Is that it, Brian? No foreplay tonight?”
“If you want foreplay, maybe you’re in the wrong profession.”
I laugh. “I didn’t say I wanted foreplay.”
I loosen the silk ribbon that fastens the transparent robe together at my waist, slide it over my shoulders, and toss it to Brian. I hear the rustle of movement as he catches it, hear the sharp intake of his breath, and picture him raising it to his nose and inhaling my scent.
“And the rest.” His voice is thicker even through the mask.
“That’s it.”
“Are you naked now, Nyx?”
“Yes.”
Pause. “I’ve changed my mind. I want you to put this back on. But you’ll have to come and get it.”
My breath hitches in my chest. “You know the rules. You know I can’t come any closer.”
“I won’t touch you if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“That’s… not what I’m afraid of.” At least, it’s not the whole truth.
If he touches me, I’ll never see him again. I won’t have a job here, and the investigation will take a huge leap backwards. But I’m also afraid that Brian touching me will be an anticlimax, and this game will be over too.
I sense him smiling, when he says, “I’ll hold it arm’s length. This is my fantasy, Nyx, and I want you to put it back on, so that’s what you’re going to do.”
“Okay.”
I don’t waste a beat. I reach out with my hand and swipe the air in the direction of his voice. My fingers graze soft gauzy fabric, but he snatches the robe away from me before I can get a hold of it.
“Nice try.” The amusement in his voice is unmistakable. “How about this?”
The robe brushes my face, but his reflexes are faster than mine, and it’s gone again before I can grab it.
I step closer. My bare toes touch the ridged circle marking the boundary between me and the client, meaning that I’m now two arm lengths away from him.
He could hold the robe on his lap, but where would be the fun in that?
No, he’s teasing me, reeling me in like a fish on a hook, but even fishermen sometimes break first.
Holding my breath and keeping perfectly motionless, I wait till my ears are ringing and then swipe the air again like I’m swimming through the darkness.
Nothing.
I circle him and try again. I sense I’m not even close before I reach out and feel blindly for a whisper of fabric.
Then I step away.
And wait.
“Is that it, Nyx? Are you giving up on me?” his voice slices through the darkness.
I don’t answer. I close my eyes and focus on the feel of the carpet on the soles of my feet, the dampness between my legs, the barely-there rhythm of Brian’s breaths.
“Nyx?”
Focus, I tell myself. If I’m right about him, he’ll tire of the waiting game before I do.
“Oh, I get it,” he says. “You’re waiting for me to break first, huh?” I hear him rising. “Okay. I’m done. Do I get to keep this? A little reminder of the fantasy that never was.”
I remain silent.
“If I leave now, Nyx, I won’t come back.” He pauses, like this is a game of chess, and he’s contemplating his next move, the one that will lead him to checkmate. “You’ll never know what I would’ve done to you on our second date.”
He only has to say the word, and I’ll leave, and the door will open for him to find the exit. But I’m confident he won’t do it.
I start counting in my head: one… two…
Before three, he says, “Catch.”
I hear the fabric flying as gentle as butterfly wings and catch it in my arms. I do what I imagined Brian doing, I raise it to my face and breathe deeply, and there it is, the faint but unmistakable hint of his cologne.
My pussy tingles as I feel my way around the robe and slip my arms into the feather-light sleeves.
I don’t know if he realizes, but I have a piece of Brian now in the scent that clings to the gauzy fabric.
Sure, it will get rinsed away in the laundry, and I might not even get to wear this same garment again, but I’ll imprint it on my consciousness and stow it away for later.
“Are you wearing it, Nyx?”
He isn’t angry; he’s adapting his fantasy to accommodate me as he learns, and I wonder what kind of lover he would be in the real world. The controlling kind who gets off on dominating his partner, or gentle and considerate, nothing like his Brian persona?
“Yes.”
“Touch yourself.”
I swallow hard and slide my hand between my legs. My fingers touch wetness, and I instinctively spread my legs wider, my index finger grazing my clit.
“Tell me what you feel, Nyx.”
“I’m wet. My clit is tingling.”
“What about your nipples?”
“They’re hard.” I don’t need to look down or touch them to know this; I can feel the fabric rubbing on them.
“Slide a finger inside you.” He’s still giving the orders, but his voice has softened a little. “Now what do you feel?”
“I’m warm and wet. I can make my walls clench around me.”
“Good girl. Now suck your juices off your finger.”
I slide my finger out from between my legs, poke it through the mouth-hole in the mask, and suck.
The taste brings back memories of sucking my slick from Enzo’s finger, our tongues touching as he licked at the same time.
I can still see the gleam in his eyes. Still see his smile, and every part of me aches for him.
“Tell me how you taste, Nyx.” His voice is lower.
“Sweet, it makes my tongue tingle.”
“Sweet like honey,” Brian murmurs, and my heart somersaults.
It’s something Enzo used to say, and the lump in my throat swells a little more.
“I want to hear you come, Nyx.”
“You want me to scream and call out your name?” It’s too cliché, and not what I expected. I’ll be disappointed if he says yes.
“No, I’ll know if you’re faking it, and you won’t see me again. I want to hear you, Nyx. I want to hear your orgasm and know that you’re doing it for me.”
I move towards him and stop when my toes touch the circle. Then I slide two fingers inside me and soften my clit with my slick, while I pinch and tug on my nipples with my left hand.
“I can smell you,” he says. “You smell like honey too.”
I find my rhythm, sliding my fingers inside me, coating them with my juices, and working my clit. My breathing is already shallow. “Can you hear me?”
“I hear you.” He’s smiling, I know he is. “Tell me when you’re close.”
It doesn’t take long. It’s the thought of knowing how near he is, listening to me come for him because he told me to, while he still holds the secret of what he would do to me if he had the chance.
When my clit is throbbing and every part of my body is tingling and sensitive, I say, “I’m going to come, Brian.”
“No, you’re not.” His words land with a dull thud on the thick carpet at my feet. “Stop.”
I do so, panting, my heart racing.
“Tell me what you were thinking about when you touched yourself.”
I try to regulate my breathing and focus on anything but my throbbing clit. “You didn’t tell me why I should be scared of what you would do to me,” I say honestly.
“Does being scared turn you on?”
“No.” It’s a lie, and we both know it. “Yes.”
“Proceed.”
“You want me to—”
“I want to hear you come, Nyx,” he snaps. “Now.”
I balk at the change in his tone. I’m paid to give him what he wants, but if he wants the real me, that’s what he’s going to get. “I can’t switch it on and off like that.”
“Yes, you can, more than you realize.” Playful Brian is back. “If you come for me, I’ll tell you what I want to do to you. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but I—” I’m still throbbing, my orgasm lurking so close to the surface I could wet my fingers and be there in an instant. But I guess I want to retain some small modicum of control and do it when I’m ready.
“Imagine my tongue on your clit, Nyx, can you do that for me?”
“Yes.” I lick my fingers, leaving my taste on my tongue, and rub my swollen clit. “I can feel it.”
“Good girl. I’m flicking it back and forth, making it spasm. Do you like that?”
I gasp. “Yes.”
“I’m sucking, nibbling it between my front teeth, giving it the attention it craves.” He pauses. “Now, open your legs wider and fuck yourself for me.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I pump my open pussy with the fingers of my left hand and work my clit with my right.
My breathing is raggedy now, the blood rushing around my veins and settling between my legs, until I feel my clit spasming to my touch and my orgasm crashes through me.
My body curls in on itself, and I instinctively close my legs around my hands, and shudder through it.